


This Time I’ll Be Bulletproof

by tsunderei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Angst, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Bodyguard Hinata Shouyou, Brief Description of Blood, Brief description of guns, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied background Kuroo/Tsukishima, M/M, Pining, Prosecutor Kageyama Tobio, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunderei/pseuds/tsunderei
Summary: A few death threats aren’t enough to keep Kageyama from digging deeper into a case that could potentially become his demise, but fearlessness alone doesn’t make him bulletproof. When a bodyguard comes into his life he imagines an easier situation, not to mention safer work conditions – but for some reason Kageyama’s case only becomes more complicated.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 71
Kudos: 410
Collections: Haikyuu best fics vluv99





	This Time I’ll Be Bulletproof

**Author's Note:**

> The AU I’ve been working on for more than a year is finally here! And it’s unlike anything I’ve ever written before so here are some things I’d like to clarify.
> 
> I’ve researched this to the best of my ability according to the setting but because this story is not about Kageyama’s profession in itself, I’ve taken some artistic liberties here and there. So if you know a lot of law stuff and something sounds off then I promise you there’s no one else out there who’s more aware of that fact than me… I also know my main “villain” is extremely vague but this fic is not about them at all lmao. This isn’t a mafia/yakuza fic, and neither is it an attempt at a detective novel, so there are zero crime scenes or murders or anything like that.
> 
> I think those were my main concerns but now that’s out of the way - I hope you’ll read and enjoy it!

The new letter is identical to all the other letters. The envelope is medium-sized and feathery light, with his last name kanji printed on it in clean, steady black. The letter floats through the air and lands softly in front of him, obscuring his current paperwork. Kageyama meets the bespectacled gaze of his assistant.

“Mail for you,” Tsukishima says pointedly, his voice dry and tired. “Again.”

“Another one, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

“And you didn’t see who dropped it off?”

Tsukishima shakes his head, his lips stretched into a thin line that mirrors the worried crease on his forehead. “It came by courier this morning. The front desk signed for it.”

“Alright…”

With a sigh, Kageyama clears his case documents away and leans back in his chair. He picks up the envelope and carefully turns it over in his hands. As usual there’s no return address, no postage stamp, not a single speck of dust or hair on it – nothing to give away where it came from.

“Wanna bet what it says before I open it?”

He smirks up at Tsukishima, who only glares back at him, obviously far from amused.

“Just get it over with.”

Unceremoniously, Kageyama tears the envelope open and pulls out a single folded paper. It’s a standard A4 sheet with a short, centered message, the characters printed in black ink, the same bold font as before.

_SOON YOU WILL DIE_

“Well, this one has some variation to it,” he says and holds it up for Tsukishima to see. “A bit more creative than just ‘die’ or ‘rot’ or whatever.”

“That’s… actually pretty concerning.” Tsukishima adjusts his glasses. “It says ‘soon’. That’s way more precise than the others.”

“It’s lame, is what it is.”

The tall blond only narrows his eyes in response. “It’s a literal threat on your life, Kageyama. This has been going on for several months now, ever since you started digging into this case. You should get the police involved.”

“They _are_ involved. That’s how _I_ got involved.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ve told you I don’t want the police constantly on my heels, I don’t have time for that.” Kageyama clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Even if these people manage to kill me they’ll still have to kill the one who replaces me, and the one after that, and the one after that. There are many, _many,_ prosecutors in this district. They won’t gain anything from it.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tsukishima snaps. “There’s a reason you’re considered the ‘King’. You don’t have a replacement.”

“Very flattering, but that nickname is a joke and an insult. People do _not_ think of me as a king, the criminals least of all.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who’s had the guts to go after these people. Your predecessors have consistently avoided this case, many were corrupt, but you’ve been digging deeper than anyone. The police referred this to you because you’re the only one in this whole district who’s brave enough – or stupid enough – to press charges. So if these guys take you out then it’s guaranteed nobody else would dare pick up where you left off. You can’t be replaced that easily and they know that. _You_ should know that, too. Honestly, you’re incredibly stupid for being such a brilliant prosecutor.”

“And you rant an awful lot for being such a brilliant assistant,” Kageyama mumbles.

As much as it pisses him off to admit it, Tsukishima’s point stands valid and correct. The death threats show no signs of stopping – in fact they’ve fallen into a half-hearted routine and Kageyama now expects to receive a letter at least once a week. He shouldn’t have to live like that. He folds the not-so cryptic paper back into its envelope and hands it to his assistant for safekeeping.

“Fine.” He sighs into the hollow of his palms, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Contact the police, tell them to come in tomorrow.”

Tsukishima disappears out of the office with a curt nod and Kageyama pushes away from his desk. He walks over to the window, hands in his pockets as he gazes out at the city below.

Right now he has nobody else in his life but himself to worry about. He’s got no partner, no close friends or family. It’s an ideal situation to be in, especially in his line of work. That’s why he aimed for this profession in the first place. It’s more or less perfect – except he wishes he had the power to do everything by himself. He knows it’s impossible but he would if he could.

This case reaches much wider than he first thought and it’s not something he wants too many people to get involved in. He hates putting others in danger, even the police. It might be their job and he knows he can’t get around this fact – but it’s still somebody else’s effort, somebody else’s waste of time, and in the worst-case scenario, somebody else’s life on the line.

Kageyama sighs, his expression darkening. He was the one who took on this case and so he should be the one to end it.

**

Detectives Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou are not unknown names to him. On the contrary, Kageyama has worked closely with the two of them on several occasions, and they’ve always allowed him to take part in their investigations more than they’ve done for any other prosecutor. By now he knows them quite well. They’re an odd couple and might not look the conventional part of law enforcement at first glance, but truth is they’re impressively good at their jobs. Bokuto has a knack for reopening cold cases and actually solving them, while Kuroo spent almost a year undercover and lived to tell the tale. They’re brave, brilliant, and trustworthy – but if Kageyama didn’t know this already he would’ve had a hard time believing it.

He watches them in the process of tilting their chairs back, trying to see who can lean the farthest, and he wonders if the highly acclaimed detective duo is just hauled out from some parallel, more competent universe whenever they’re needed. In the meantime the rest of the world is presented with _this_ , whatever this is.

Tsukishima enters the office to the double clatter of chairs slamming back onto the floor, only seconds – and inches – away from a very embarrassing disaster. He delivers the already bagged envelope to Kageyama, frowns at the three of them over the rim of his glasses, before he takes his leave with the slightest shrug. No one says a word but the scene is more chaotic than it needs to be and Kageyama briefly wishes he’d stuck to playing volleyball after high school. He really could have lived the easier life of an athlete.

“So, anyway…” He interrupts the weird tension and hands the letter to the detectives. “You’ll find prints from myself, Tsukishima, and the people at the front desk.”

“The previous letters turned up blank on prints,” Bokuto replies, having already pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “I doubt this one will tell us anything new.”

“The message is more direct, though,” Kuroo points out. “This is the first time the sender has strayed from their usual one-word threats, right? The fact that they’ve added the word ‘soon’ could mean an actual plan is in the works.”

“Yeah, Tsukishima said the same thing.”

“Tsukki’s got a sharp mind,” Kuroo declares proudly. “You’re relaying my compliments to him, right?”

Kageyama blinks, confused. “Compliments?”

“For Tsukki.”

“I’m not complimenting Tsukishima…”

“No, no – _I’m_ the one complimenting him. I just thought you were letting him know that I am.”

“Why?”

“Seriously,” Kuroo sighs, frustrated. “I thought you were at least putting in a good word for me.”

“Um, no…?” Kageyama has no idea what he’s talking about. “Maybe put in your own good word, Kuroo-san.”

Bokuto hums thoughtfully and squints at the letter in his hands, picking the conversation back up where they left it, as if their little digression never happened.

“These threats have been coming in for a while without anything happening, but there’s no reason to think they aren’t legit. So considering your line of work, we’d advise some protection in the meantime.”

“You mean like, police protection?”

“Well… maybe not exactly _that_ …” He squirms a little, his thick eyebrows reaching for his silver hairline. “Like, you don’t wanna be too obvious about it…”

“…plus we don’t really have the resources at the moment,” Kuroo chimes in awkwardly. “Government cuts and all that. We’re understaffed and the coffee machine at the station _sucks_ , you know how it is.”

“But that’s fine, I don’t need protection. I’m already following your advice.” Kageyama glares at them, irritated, and starts counting on his fingers. “I don’t go jogging outside anymore, I only leave the apartment building to go to work, I’ve let you guys arrange a private chauffeur for me every morning, and I’ve told the doorman to confirm every visitor with me, no matter who they say they are. You’ve limited my movements enough as it is, I don’t need more on top of that.”

“Having actual protection exclusively for you is different, though. It’s much safer. And you’ll be free to move around more.”

“But if the police can’t help me then what am I supposed to do?”

“Hire a bodyguard,” the detective duo says in unison.

“A bodyguard…?” Kageyama repeats doubtfully. “Uh – I’m not an idol.”

“You’re kind of an idol,” Bokuto states. “You’re constantly on the news, everyone wants statements and answers from you. You’ve become the face of the investigation more than the actual police. I’m sure you’ve got admirers, too. Besides, a bodyguard is just as competent as a police officer, maybe even more so. They’re kind of like assassins, except they’re on our side.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty cool way to put it!” Kuroo exclaims.

“Right? I’d totally be one!”

“An assassin?”

“A bodyguard!”

“So _where_ do I hire from?” Kageyama interrupts them through gritted teeth and rubs his temples, sensing a brewing headache. “I’ve got no clue about this stuff. Any recommendations?”

“Don’t worry, we’ve already looked into it,” Kuroo assures him and waves his hand. “I’ll – uh, I mean _we_ – both of us, Bokuto and I – will leave our information with Tsukki on our way out. I’m sure we can trust him to find a more than competent bodyguard for you.”

**

The fact that the police thinks he even needs a bodyguard in the first place is annoying, but the less Kageyama has to deal with the situation, the better. He is more than happy to leave the process and all the formalities with Tsukishima. That’s what he’s there for, after all; to handle the things Kageyama shouldn’t have to worry about (even though this might be slightly below his pay grade).

Over the next couple of days he finds himself focusing on another important case, one where the investigations are just starting out – and because there’s a limit to how many thoughts he can hold in his mind at once he forgets about the bodyguard altogether.

Five days later Kageyama heads to work as usual. He reads the news in the car, picks up a latte on the way, rides the elevator up to his floor alone, and nods a greeting to his colleagues before disappearing into his office. He’s scrolling through his emails when Tsukishima knocks on the door.

“You’ve got an interview.”

Kageyama swerves around in his chair. “Say what?”

“You’ve got an interview,” Tsukishima repeats. “I found a guy for the bodyguard position.”

“Oh, that…” Kageyama sighs, his gut twisting in refusal. “Is it necessary to go through with an interview? Can’t you just hire him? You’ll be sorting out the paperwork anyway.”

“Technically, _you’ll_ be his new employer,” Tsukishima states tersely. “He’ll be watching _you._ At least speak with him first.”

“…Okay, _fine_. Is he here now?”

“Well…” His assistant hesitates a little at that, nudging his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “He came in just after you, but…”

“But what?”

“He’s… not quite what you might expect.”

Tsukishima gestures through the glass walls of his office, urging him to come look for himself. Kageyama joins him warily, frowning as he searches the visitor’s area – and then does a double take.

“Um…”

“I know,” Tsukishima replies, for lack of something better to say.

For a while they both just stand there staring at the person waiting on the couch. He’s suited up in all black, his shirt is pressed, his tie is straight, and his shoes are shined – his style is impeccable.

In contrast to all of that he’s also relatively short, he’s sporting the brightest shock of orange hair Kageyama has ever seen, he just devoured two store-bought onigiri seemingly in one go, and on top of that he looks quite young. Kageyama isn’t sure what he expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

“So –” He searches for words. “Wait, did he bring a fucking bento or what? Are you sure this is him?”

“Pretty sure, yes.”

“How – how old is he?”

“Um – ” Tsukishima scrambles to check his tablet. “Same age as us.”

Kageyama frowns in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Actually, he’s older than you by six months.”

“What the hell…” Kageyama huffs and crosses his arms, ears burning in humiliation. “I thought Kuroo told you where to look?”

“He did, he even asked me if _I_ was interested in hiring a bodyguard for myself, which doesn’t make sense because I don’t know anything more than you do, I don’t even have the power to press charges. I’m literally a non-threat in this scenario. Don’t know why he’d suggest that.”

“Kuroo keeps asking me to put in a good word for him, by the way – with you, I mean.”

“Me? Why?”

“I don’t know.” Kageyama shrugs.

Tsukishima stares at him, cheeks coloring under narrowing eyes, before he nudges his glasses once more and clears his throat.

“Anyway – I followed his suggestion and the agency told me this guy comes highly recommended. I asked for the best they had and this is him, apparently.”

Kageyama jabs his thumb in direction of the visitor’s area, frustrated. “ _What_ agency could possibly consider _this_ _guy_ the best?”

“Oh come on, you don’t even know him. Besides, what do you take me for?” Tsukishima adds, borderline offended. “I took all precautions and his agency is very good, they’re very discreet. When they heard I was working for you they were more than happy to provide everything I asked for. This guy’s clean as a whistle.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. If this is their best then I could just hire Bokuto.”

“No,” Tsukishima says, immediately. “I have nothing against Bokuto-san but I’m sure he would end up abandoning you somewhere.”

“No, _you_ would abandon me, don’t get it mixed up. Bokuto would just… accidentally forget about me or something. I’m sure this guy would, too.”

They spend another minute staring at the young man as he finishes his _third_ onigiri, carefully pats his pockets looking for a tissue, comes up empty-handed, and eventually ends up glancing around the visitor’s area, resembling a forlorn, ginger puppy.

“Well, I can’t send him away now that he’s already here so you have no choice but to do the interview.” Tsukishima smirks. “I did all the dirty work for you but the decision itself is out of my hands. Good luck, King.”

“Shut up,” Kageyama mutters, glaring.

He drags himself over to his desk with a long-suffering sigh, rests his chin on top of his knuckles, and watches through the glass as the redhead makes his way to his office. He must be almost a full head shorter than him and looks particularly small next to the human coat rack that is Tsukishima. Size doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with strength and now that he’s seeing him up close he appears athletic enough. Still, Kageyama is simply just bigger than him and if he’s honest it doesn’t leave the best impression.

He enters, bows deeply, and presents himself as Hinata Shouyou. Kageyama gestures for him to take a seat, quietly taking in the bright halo of his hair and the warm honey of his eyes and how fitting his name is. He really does strike him as a sunny person. He’s not sure if he likes it.

“So why should I hire you as my bodyguard?” he asks, cutting straight to the point as always.

Kageyama expects him to enthusiastically brag about his skills and his accomplishments, to dive into what he’s done and what he knows and all the possible reasons why he’s the best choice, but to his surprise Hinata only stares at him.

“Why?” he repeats, bewildered. “Uh… It’s because you need one, isn’t it? I think that’s why I’m here? You were receiving death threats or something?”

Kageyama is taken aback. “Well – I – obviously,” he splutters, suddenly flustered. “I mean – why _you_ , specifically? Your agency highly recommended you. Why?”

“Of course they’d do that,” the redhead replies matter-of-factly. “My agency’s extremely selective so everyone who belongs to it will come recommended. I’m not here because of competition, I’m here because I happen to be available at this time.”

“So?” Kageyama snarls, unable to shake the feeling that he’s being yanked along and defeated in this conversation. “That’s your best selling point? You just happen to be _free_?”

“Yep.” Hinata fixes his big, brown eyes on him. “I’m not here to be someone special to you. My job as a bodyguard is to be as inconspicuous as possible and walk one step behind you. I’m supposed to have your back and that’s all. I don’t have to appeal to you for this position because you don’t have to like me. At the end of the day you need me more than I need you.”

He leans back in his chair and shrugs, an aggravatingly innocent look on his face.

“You wanna hire me or not?”

**

It doesn’t make sense but it’s like Hinata got a head start on him, somehow. Getting a head start is a feeling, a _mindset_ , as far as Kageyama’s concerned. Hinata walked into his office with the advantage of having his literal life in his hands, and he kind of owned him with his little speech about being an inconspicuous presence in his life – but in Kageyama’s opinion he’s honestly been anything but that so far.

Hinata is actually an unusually invested bodyguard. It’s not that he contributes much of substance but he constantly butts into his conversations, asks loads of questions about his work, he’s loud and chatty pretty much always, not to mention how his entire bright appearance is enough to attract attention in itself. Hinata’s orange mop of hair hovers behind Kageyama’s shoulder at all times and he can’t exactly say he’s comfortable with it, even though that’s what he hired him for. He doesn’t necessarily feel any safer now.

“Could you not stand so close to me the next time I’m speaking?” he asks gruffly, leaving the press conference feeling a little more irritable than usual. “It looked like you were a representative or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Hinata peers up at him and smirks. “What – you’re scared I’ll steal the spotlight from the young, handsome prosecutor?”

“That’s not it,” Kageyama snaps, his cheeks blooming an uncontrollable red. “I thought you said you were supposed to stay one step behind me?”

“But I am?” Hinata shrugs, looking all innocent as if everything he says is perfectly reasonable. “It’s just that your legs are so long, you have a much longer stride than me. I have to compensate so I don’t end up lagging too much behind.”

“That only applies when we’re walking, dumbass,” Kageyama replies under his breath.

“How did it go?” Tsukishima asks as they enter the office.

“My answers were too vague, the reporters weren’t satisfied, same old thing.”

Kageyama tosses his coat away and cards his hands through his hair, stubbornly ignoring how a wave of weariness washes over him every time he sits down. He’s restless and stressed and _tired_ and he doesn’t need any of it. What he needs is a way to postpone this bone-deep exhaustion for a more suitable time. He needs to keep going.

“There’s not a lot I can share publicly at this point anyway,” he continues. “I can’t reveal that Ushijima is a potential lead, the press would be all over that. Speaking of which –”

“You’re really good at your job, aren’t you?”

Hinata’s interrupting remark is surprising and unexpected, almost a little too brash, elbowing its way into their conversation like an intruder. Kageyama’s first thought is that the comment was directed at Tsukishima but when he turns around he finds Hinata looking back at him, a curious expression on his face.

“Oh, he is excellent at his job,” Tsukishima interjects before he can reply, and he immediately senses an incoming drag because his assistant would _never_ in his life compliment him like this. “But _only_ at his job, though. Ask him to do mental math and he won’t stand a chance.”

“Literally shut up, Tsukishima.”

“That’s fine, I can’t do mental math either,” Hinata admits.

Kageyama narrows his eyes at him. “Aren’t bodyguards supposed to be good at everything?”

“I don’t need math,” Hinata claims and taps his temple knowingly. “I just need my intuition. My intuition is razor sharp.”

“That sounds like something Kageyama would say,” Tsukishima snorts. “The combination of you two is either ingenious or a disaster, since you’re both obviously idiots.” He turns to Kageyama, feigning concern. “You think you’ll be alive for much longer? Should I start looking for a new job?”

Kageyama groans, his patience already worn thin. “If you’ve got anything to add about Ushijima then spit it out, don’t just sit there. We’re meeting with him after lunch, in case you forgot.”

“No need to get petulant. I already gathered all the documents you need here.”

He glares as he snatches the folder out of his assistant’s hand and forces a small ‘thank you’ under his breath.

“Remember that we’ve been pestering Ushijima-san about this meeting for six months now,” Tsukishima continues. “And if he rejects us again we’ll have to wait another six months. Be hard on him.”

“I’m sorry but –” From the corner of the room Hinata clears his throat, once again interrupting them. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check the place out before you go?”

“What place?”

“Washijou & Sons. That’s where you’re going, right? I’m not sure what Ushijima’s office looks like so it could be wise to do some recon first.”

“Recon,” Tsukishima repeats drily, expression unchanged and unimpressed. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” Hinata locks them both in a gaze that has suddenly turned intense. “Where is his office located anyway? On the south side or the north side? Ground level or top floor? Do you even know?”

Kageyama hesitates, trying to recall the layout of the place since his last visit. That time he had followed Ushijima’s secretary and hadn’t really paid that much attention to his surroundings. He vaguely remembers standing in an elevator for a while and then taking a lot of confusing turns, mostly to the left.

“Uh – top floor, or definitely almost at the top,” he says at last. “And then south side, I think. Why, does it matter?”

Hinata stares idly out the window, his teeth pulling thoughtfully at his lip, finger tapping his chin.

“So his office is fairly vulnerable, then… High up, wide-open space, totally exposed. Of course it would be,” he whispers, as an afterthought. “That’s typical.”

Tsukishima frowns. “What exactly are you getting at here?”

He receives a shrug in response, brown eyes zeroing in on them for a second before drifting away again. “Nothing. Just stating facts.”

“You’re being way too paranoid,” Kageyama sighs. “Listen – getting this guy to take the witness stand has been a long process. He’s only willing to meet with me if I come to him. Sometimes you just gotta accommodate these people.”

“You hired me to be paranoid,” Hinata mumbles, his lips twisting into a pout. He checks his gun holster before straightening his jacket, fastening one of the buttons. “How about this, then – I’ll stay in the office with you during the entire meeting. No leaving me to wait outside.”

“Fine.” Kageyama shrugs, figuring it’s easier to yield and let this guy do whatever he wants. “Anyway, enough of this. Let’s order lunch,” he says and reaches for his phone. “I’ve got a real craving for pizza right now.”

**

There is definitely something off about Ushijima. Kageyama can tell the moment he greets him. That bow is simply a little too deep for someone of his standing. His position in Washijou’s multimillion steel corporation is top-tier and influential; Kageyama should honestly be the one to take the deepest bow.

There’s nothing dangerous about him, however. He looks a little intimidating and imposing at first glance but right now he strikes Kageyama as nervous most of all. He’s not guilty; just cannon fodder. He’s probably also only interested in saving himself and his loved ones, which includes keeping his mouth shut. That’s where the problem lies.

Kageyama introduces Tsukishima, apologizes for having to drag his bodyguard along, and gets down to business without wasting any time on pleasantries.

“You know why I’m here.”

“I do,” Ushijima says curtly.

“Did you give my previous offer any more thought?”

“I did.”

“Then there’s no point in me beating around the bush,” Kageyama says easily. “And neither is it for you. I’m wasting your time, which means you’re losing money. You want me to leave, right?”

Ushijima twists in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. He’s obviously under some kind of gag order and Kageyama supposes he should feel bad for him. But if the police are right so far then this very corporation has ties to the organization currently under his investigation – and his goal is to take it down once and for all. As of now, this guy right here is his most effective means to reach that goal. There’s no room for sympathy. A businessman like him should understand.

“I’ve already told you,” Ushijima says, his eyes darkening. “This has nothing to do with me. Whatever’s going on is beyond my –”

“It’s not beyond you at all,” Kageyama interrupts him. “I want you to show up in court and tell everyone what you know. Because you do know _something._ It’s as simple as that. Be my witness.”

He gets up, wanders around the nice, big office, taking in the panorama view in front of him. Right across the street towers a tall office building with dark, shiny windows, and crawling out from its shadows is the rest of the city, gleaming in all its bustling glory until it fades out against the bay in the distance. There’s sun above them, people below them, and Kageyama is about to crack Ushijima’s stubborn unwillingness. This will be his breakthrough. He can feel it.

“Your bosses won’t talk to me,” he admits, turning around to face him. “And honestly, we don’t have solid enough evidence to prove their shady connections. I have very little to go on and so I can’t touch them, but I don’t need to. I’ll go through you.”

“I’m… not about to expose my superiors.”

“I admire your loyalty but I hope you realize that whatever deal they’ve made with you now can be broken. Maybe you’ve been promised protection, or a hefty bonus, but remember that they can abandon you, drag you down with them, or throw you to the dogs – any time. I’m sure they’re fond of you but you’re not the heir around here. You’re one of the higher-ups but you can be replaced. You’re valuable but you’re not family.”

Ushijima hesitates at that, his hands balled into tight fists, his sharp gaze glued to the tidy surface of his expensive desk. Kageyama makes eye contact with Tsukishima, who nods for him to go on. His expression softens a fraction and he does his best at conveying a tone that’s conciliatory, amicable – just like he practiced.

“Ushijima-san, I know you’re innocent. I also know you have information and that you’re refusing to share it. That’s obstruction of justice, which again makes you guilty to some degree. But if you become my witness I can help you. I can offer –”

His offer is interrupted.

Kageyama isn’t really sure what happens next – the following sequence of events is contained within a frail bubble devoid of any sound. He just knows that in one moment he’s talking, his words in the middle of a sentence, and in the next Hinata shouts his name and full-on body tackles him to the ground. Almost at the exact same time the window loudly shatters into a million pieces and Kageyama is suddenly on the carpeted floor, with Hinata shielding him from the rain of broken glass.

There is a long stretch of dead silence where the only thing Kageyama can hear is scattered papers rustling in the wind; wind that is completely misplaced inside an office. Then the quiet bubble bursts and their surroundings erupt into chaos.

“Wait.” Hinata’s breath is heavy in his ear, his hands pinning him down. “Stay low.”

He leans away slightly, still straddled across his body, his tangerine hair glinting with small pieces of pulverized glass. He stares down at him, worried, his chest heaving.

“Are you okay? Are you hit anywhere?”

“I –” Kageyama gapes at him, partly annoyed and partly confused, the words not connecting properly with his brain. “If I’m hit–? What – do you mean…?”

“You had a red dot aimed right at your temple just now,” Hinata says seriously. “Somebody tried to take you out from across the street. You were almost shot.”

Kageyama’s mind is reeling, his thoughts nothing but wind and white noise. Somebody had tried to actually shoot him? Just seconds ago? So all this glass is broken because of a bullet that was meant for his head? And Hinata, he –

“What about –?” he begins and gestures weakly. “Are you –?”

“…Hit?” Hinata finishes for him, before he shakes his head. “No offense, but I’d rather not take a bullet for you if I can help it.”

**

The police questions Kageyama for a while but in the end nothing comes out of it. He didn’t see anything – one minute he was talking, the next he was on the floor in a pool of broken glass. There’s not much else to say, really. It’s not like he shows up to a meeting expecting to be assassinated anyway. Thankfully nobody was hurt in the incident.

He agrees to a medical check-up, just in case, and it’s already late evening by the time he’s given the all-clear to go home. He and Hinata are given police escort, despite Kageyama’s protests, and he begrudgingly lets them arrange for extra security outside his apartment building for the night. He hates all the fuss, most of all.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Hinata asks once they’re standing in the entryway, finally out of the world’s reach, more or less.

“Of course.” Kageyama waves his hand dismissively. “I need some alone time now anyway. And it’s impossible for anyone to get to me here. This is a fortress now.”

“Yeah, but –” Hinata squints at him, searching his face. “I’m leaving only if you’re okay with it.”

“I appreciate you saving my life and all but I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Okay…” His bodyguard lingers by the door, still a bit doubtful, but then he nods, as if to remind himself. “Okay,” he repeats, more determined this time, and smiles. “I’ll pick you up for work tomorrow morning, unless you’d like to take a day off. Though I’ll probably show up anyway just to check on you.”

“I’m not taking a day off, what’re you talking about,” Kageyama grumbles. “Now go, before I get security up here to remove you,” he adds, half-jokingly.

Once Hinata has left, Kageyama locks the door. He double-checks that it is in fact locked, triple-checks it for good measure, closes all the blinds in his apartment, and then finds himself staring into the darkness of his familiar bedroom, absolutely shaken to the core.

He’s never felt fear like this before.

He escapes back into the living room, chest heaving. He doesn’t even need to think about it. He can’t sleep in there; it’s like a tomb with no way out. He hurries into the entryway, checks the locks once again, and considers for a moment sleeping on the couch even though he knows there’s no point. He won’t be able to sleep one second tonight anyway. Instead he pours himself something strong to drink, unable to keep his hands from shaking, and positions himself in a chair facing the door. He turns the television on and then immediately off again. He can’t have any background noises; he must be able to hear every single sound in his otherwise so silent apartment.

It’s becoming clearer by the second, the fact that an attempt was made to kill him. This is the first time after all those death threats that they’ve actually tried. He’s seeing the so-called lame letters in a different light now. Their message nearly came true today.

He listens to his leaky kitchen faucet, almost obsessively. Drops of water echo into an empty cup he left in the sink this morning, the sound amplified ten thousand times. Even his wristwatch, an old heirloom from his grandfather, is ticking too loudly, burrowing its way into his ears. It doesn’t even resemble ticking anymore. It reminds him of footsteps, the approaching kind.

Kageyama checks the lock again and lingers for a moment with his ear pressed against the door, but he can’t hear anything out there in the corridor. If he had the guts he would look through the peephole to make sure, but he doesn’t. He’s terrified of what might be staring back at him.

He turns the lights off, then on, and then off again. In the end he leaves them on. Dark corners never used to bother him but right now they freak him the hell out. Better flood them with light so nothing can creep into them unseen. You never know, that’s the worst thing of all.

Kageyama goes back to his chair, proceeds to tap his foot against the coffee table, his finger against the brim of his whiskey glass. The more he tries not to think about it, the more he keeps replaying today’s events in his head.

He really could have died today. He was mere seconds away from having his brains blown out.

In the end he slowly nods off but only for a few minutes at a time. He can’t sleep, not yet. He needs to sit quietly in this chair, ready. Ready for what, he doesn’t know, but every time he closes his eyes he hears the breaking of glass, feels Hinata’s body barreling into his, knocking the air out of him. If it hadn’t been for Hinata…

No.

It’s too frightening thinking about the reality of it, the could-have-beens.

At the tail end of the night Kageyama finally gives in and falls into restless, uncomfortable sleep, his mind twisting around bizarre, unintelligible dreams. He wakes up with a start when a loud, piercing buzz repeatedly fills the apartment. He scrambles to sit up, anxiety ripping through his body. He spots his empty glass on the floor, feels a cramp in his neck, momentary disorientation leaving his surroundings unfamiliar and strange.

He realizes that the buzzing comes from the intercom, which is going off the way it does every morning. He pulls a hand over his tired face, wincing a little at the coarse stubble gathered on his chin, and drags his stiff body across the room.

“ _Good morning, Kageyama-san,_ ” the downstairs doorman says. “ _I’m so sorry to disturb you but Hinata-san has arrived. I’m just letting you know that he’s on his way up._ ”

Not long after that there’s a knock on his door. Kageyama hasn’t looked in the mirror yet but his clothes from yesterday are crumpled and sweaty and he _did_ sleep in a chair. In other words he doesn’t have very high expectations. He sighs, buttons his shirt up, halfheartedly runs a hand through his hair, and braces himself for Hinata’s inevitable ridicule as he opens up.

“Good morn–oh my god!” Hinata exclaims the moment he lays eyes on him. “Why the hell do you look so awful?”

“It’s not that bad…” Kageyama steps aside to let him in.

“Not that bad?” Hinata repeats in disbelief. “You’re either blind or you don’t know what a mirror is. Have you slept at all?”

Kageyama shrugs, makes a non-committal noise, and gestures vaguely towards his chair. Hinata spots the discarded whiskey glass on the floor, quickly adds two-and-two together, and smacks his forehead with his palm.

“God, I was so stupid I didn’t insist on staying with you last night.” He looks up at him, eyes wide and worried. “You’re traumatized, aren’t you? You’ve been here all alone, just panicking?”

“I’m not –”

There’s no room for him to finish his protest before Hinata promptly wrings his jacket off, loosens his tie, and reaches for his phone. He calls a number and whoever is on the other line picks up after only a couple of rings.

“Tsukishima?” he says, to Kageyama’s surprise. “Yeah, this is Hinata. Cancel all appointments, we’re taking a day off.”

“What –?! We’re not –”

Hinata ducks and jumps out of the way when Kageyama tries to snatch the phone from him. “Your boss is okay, he’s with me. Huh? What’s that? He’s not your boss? Well, your _colleague_ , then. Anyway, your colleague needs to rest right now.” He pauses, once again dodging the hands reaching after him. “So what if you don’t believe me? I don’t care. Take a nice, long lunch break for once. Just don’t expect us to come in today.”

“Dumbass!” Kageyama shouts angrily when Hinata hangs up. “Don’t make decisions on my behalf like that! Who do you think you are?”

“I’m your bodyguard, you jerk!” Hinata retaliates. “I’m in charge of your safety and well-being! I can override your authority if I feel the situation calls for it, and it does right now!”

He strides over to the intercom, buzzes the doorman, and tells him the car isn’t needed today.

“But –”

“No buts, your work won’t suffer from being ignored for one day,” Hinata says sternly and pushes Kageyama further into the apartment. “Take a long bath, shave, brush your teeth, wear something clean. Seriously, you stink. I’ll make you breakfast in the meantime.”

Kageyama huffs out a breath and pouts, like a stubborn kid, but Hinata just stares back at him, arms crossed. In the end he grudgingly complies and shuffles off to the bathroom. He prepares his bath with a deep frown on his face, annoyed by what seems like a waste of precious time – he’s even got a court date tomorrow, he should be getting ready for that!

However, once he lowers himself into the warm water he has to admit that it’s not so bad after all. He would never have dared to do this last night, to allow himself trapped all alone in this confined bathroom space, but now he feels safe enough to relax properly. It’s suddenly obvious how tense he is, how high his shoulders are and how much his body is aching, as though he’s been running all night. The steam and the soap have a calming effect on him and at one point he dozes off for a bit.

After getting dry and changed, Kageyama gets rid of his overnight stubble and pulls a comb through his damp hair. He pads barefoot into the kitchen just in time to find Hinata one-handedly crack an egg over a bowl of steaming rice. He mixes the egg in with a pair of chopsticks while humming a nondescript tune under his breath, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. When he turns around he spots Kageyama lingering by the door.

“There you are!” He grins, pleased. “And looking much better! You clean up nicely.”

He grabs him by the elbow, marches him across the room, and sits him down on the couch with an authority bigger than that of any judge Kageyama has ever encountered. He places the bowl of rice in front of him.

“Eat,” he orders, easing the chopsticks into his hand.

“Uh… This is egg over rice…?”

“You bet it is!” Hinata beams as if he just presented him with one of the wonders of the world. “Best comfort food ever, trust me! Now sit tight, I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

Kageyama stares at his food. He hasn’t had this in ages, barely remembers what it tastes like, but it looks appetizing – and his stomach is growling loudly.

“Here you go.” Hinata hands him a mug filled with something steaming and fragrant. “Green mint tea. Perfect for frayed nerves.”

“Why… are you doing all of this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Hinata just shrugs at him. “Now eat! Can’t believe I have to tell you twice.”

It doesn’t hit him how hungry he actually is until he takes the first bite and the warm rice practically melts on his tongue. In fact he’s starving; he hasn’t eaten anything since that one glass of whiskey last night and now he feels it in his entire body. It’s a light meal – not too harsh on his empty stomach yet filling and nutritious at the same time – and it slowly warms him up, like a cat curling up in his lap. He finishes the bowl with great enthusiasm, not saying much in between mouthfuls, while Hinata keeps an eye on his every move and makes sure he eats everything.

A couple of minutes later Kageyama is cradling the mug in his hands, feeling full and satisfied and just a little embarrassed.

“Hey, uh, thanks... for saving my life yesterday.” He hesitates, bites his lip. “And I’m also sorry. You had your suspicions already before we left for that meeting. I should’ve listened to you and been more careful.”

Hinata stares into the depths of his own tea for a long moment, silent and thoughtful, before he looks up. He meets him with a wide grin and the tips of his ears glow ever so slightly pink.

“Don’t worry about it!” he says happily. “That’s what I’m here for!”

**

Hinata bans him completely from checking his phone or his laptop or anything work-related for the rest of the day. After a half-hearted protest Kageyama is left in front of the television, flicking idly through the channels, surrendered to an odd combination of unproductiveness and exhaustion. Next to him Hinata keeps talking about something or the other, trying to engage him in the conversation, but Kageyama finds his attention drifting too much to actually respond. Instead he nods off for the second time that day and a slightly offended Hinata ushers him to bed.

Kageyama falls asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow. He sleeps deeply, dreamlessly, and wakes up a few hours later, wide awake and unsettled by something he can’t remember. He hauls himself off to the bathroom where he ends up staring at himself in the mirror. His face is gaunt and tired, with deep purple grooves under his eyes. There’s also a small pimple on his chin. He starts picking absently at it, wondering how come he didn’t notice it before, and frowns in confusion at how smooth his skin is where the bump should’ve been.

He suddenly realizes that the pimple is actually moving around, darting from his chin to his forehead to his cheek, and that it’s not a pimple at all – it’s a red laser dot, a laser dot that has now settled right at his temple. In his increasing panic the room starts shrinking, the walls caving in on him, before the mirror explodes in his face, a million pieces raining over him like bullets.

Then Kageyama wakes up for real.

He sits breathlessly on his bedside for a moment, shivering and drenched in sweat, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He listens intently for any sounds coming from the living room but it’s remarkably quiet out there. Most likely Hinata has left by now; he can’t possibly have planned to stay there all night like a babysitter. That’s definitely not his job, not when Kageyama is safe behind several locks, a doorman, and, for the time being, extra police security. Hinata is redundant in this situation.

He tiptoes to the door, stays there with his ear pressed against the cold wood, and then exits the bedroom as quietly as he can, his heart stuck somewhere in his throat. The thought of walking into an empty apartment fills him with so much anxiety. He doesn’t want to be left alone.

The living room blinds are up, revealing that it’s already evening. Shadows reach across the floor while the sun dips into the horizon, gleaming pink and gold. The TV is on but muted – and Hinata is still there. He’s seated within full view of the bedroom door as well as the front door. Yesterday’s paper is in his hands, his weapon unholstered for the time being but lying right next to him, and he looks up when Kageyama enters the room.

“Oh – hey! Did you need anything?”

“No, I…” Kageyama pauses, unsure of what he wants. He searches his brain, inaccessible and blocked in all its haziness, and comes up with nothing. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all…”

“Must’ve been pretty awful then, you don’t look so good,” Hinata remarks. He puts the paper away, crosses the room, and immediately frowns when he rests his hand on Kageyama’s arm. “Wait – you’re shaking. Are you okay?”

Kageyama only realizes this when Hinata points it out. It seems like he’s lost all awareness of his body, his consciousness detached and floating somewhere far above him, out of reach. And now that he _knows_ , the trembling only gets worse.

“Kageyama?”

“I –”

He’s numb. His hands, his face, his mind; his entire body is going offline, little by little. He sways slightly, registers Hinata’s steadying hand on his back, and he wonders why his lungs are struggling to process the air he’s breathing.

“Calm down,” Hinata says, his voice reaching him through cotton, through water, through glass. “Just breathe slowly – alright. Deep inhale, slow exhale.”

He leads Kageyama back to the bedroom while continuing to instruct him on his breathing. He sits him down on the bedside and lets him squeeze his hand until his knuckles go white and the roaring storm inside his head subsides. Kageyama doesn’t let go until the feeling passes and eventually dies down, leaving him drained and tired.

“I guess this reaction is no surprise.” Hinata gently nudges a glass of water into his hands. “You’ve been through a lot these past twenty-four hours.”

Kageyama brings the glass to his forehead, squeezes his eyes shut against the icy cold. He’s never experienced something like this before. He would rather be without it.

“It’s so stupid…” he murmurs. “Freaking out like this…”

“It’s _not_ , you idiot,” Hinata cuts in sharply. “You were almost shot dead! Do you realize how insane that is? Of course you’d freak out, anyone would.”

Kageyama spontaneously breathes out a weak laugh. So he was just called an idiot. By someone he kind of also thinks of as an idiot; an idiot who speaks perfect sense, an idiot who’s looking after him. He’s too amused by the harsh tone in Hinata’s voice to even find it in him to be offended. And he’s too grateful for his company to be mad. He sighs and nods into the palm of his hand, endlessly weary.

“I think… I’ll go back to sleep now.”

“Good idea,” Hinata agrees and pats his back. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

He turns to leave but Kageyama reaches after him, his hand controlled by something that’s not entirely himself, his body reacting by reflex before his senses can catch up. He grabs Hinata firmly by the wrist, holding him back.

“Kageyama –?”

“Could you… stay with me?”

“Yeah.” Hinata looks at him, puzzled. “I said I would.”

“No, stay _here_.”

“In your bedroom? Um – okay, that’s fine, I’ll just get a chair –”

“No –”

If it hadn’t been for his current state of mind, Kageyama would’ve found his own actions extremely embarrassing and humiliating. He’d never do anything like this in the first place. But right now he’s not himself at all. He’s not familiar with the concept of thinking clearly, none of his thoughts are filtered, much less ordered, and it’s more frustrating than anything to be unable to properly describe what he wants.

“I mean… lie down next to me. I wanna know you’re here. Please.”

Hinata doesn’t have a response for that. He only stares back at him, his lips parted in a silent protest, his expression a mix of conflicting emotions. His hand twitches, like he’s ready to twist out of his grip, and Kageyama knows exactly what’s going through his head. He’s worried – about the professional boundaries, about maintaining a healthy relationship, about keeping his distance. Kageyama gets it; even in this drained state of mind he totally does.

Yet he refuses to let go, his fingers clutched tightly around his wrist, and maybe there’s something about his pleading look, or the pathetic desperation of it all, that gradually softens Hinata’s frown. He considers it for one more second and then complies without another word, just offers him a short nod and a resigned shrug.

It’s strange to let someone else into a personal space like this, to allow them to share a moment that’s both intimate and unfamiliar. Under any other circumstances, Kageyama wouldn’t show himself vulnerable or weak – but this is the one exception. He waits for Hinata to settle under the sheets, promises he’ll forget about this come morning, and whispers into the silent darkness.

“Hinata?”

The shape next to him hesitates but then turns over to face him. “Yeah?”

Kageyama allows a split-second of eye contact before he looks away – away from bright hair falling across equally bright eyes, away from lightly blushing cheeks, away from the visible skin at the base of his throat where his shirt is unbuttoned. Hinata’s silhouette sits somewhere at the edge of his vision, unfocused and blurry, and Kageyama doesn’t even remember what he was about to ask.

For a long moment Hinata just waits for him to continue, his breathing much too quiet and controlled for him to have fallen asleep. At last he’s the one who speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“If you want to… hold me… or anything –” He pauses, seems to consider his words. “If you want to hold me… then you can.”

Kageyama hopes his heartbeats are only loud in his ears and that the sound hasn’t somehow found a way to exit his body. He doesn’t know if that’s what he wanted to ask earlier. It probably wasn’t; it seems way too much to ask this of a person he barely knows, of his _bodyguard_. But the offer is there all the same, out in the open, and it hadn’t sounded like a joke. He swallows, mouth dry.

“You… don’t mind?”

“No.”

Kageyama awkwardly scoots closer, tries not to look Hinata in the eyes as he does so, and hesitantly slips an arm around his waist, his face level with the slope of his throat. He’s comfortably warm, his body slender but strong, and he smells really good, even after hours spent in somebody else’s home. Kageyama relaxes against him, exhaustion once again overtaking his body and mind.

“Do you always go to these lengths for your clients?” he murmurs sleepily.

Hinata stills for a thoughtful moment. Then he carefully puts his arm around Kageyama’s shoulders and squeezes him lightly, like in a hug.

“I don’t,” he replies, his voice soft. “So far only for you.”

**

The next morning Kageyama wakes up alone. His bedroom is silent, only lit up by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. He tilts his head towards the alarm clock and finds that it’s a few minutes shy of 8 a.m. For a while he just contemplates the vague shadows of the room and slowly realizes he isn’t overcome with any panic or fear this time. On the contrary, he feels surprisingly refreshed and well rested. He slept soundly through the night without any nightmares or dreams and he didn’t even notice Hinata leaving. He felt nothing and heard nothing. It’s the deepest he’s slept in a very long time.

He turns over on his side and stares at the empty space next to him. Kageyama is used to having this big bed all to himself but he doesn’t really catch a lot of sleep in it. It’s not a special place to him. He absently brushes his hand over the mattress – it isn’t warm anymore but the sheets are wrinkled against his palm, disheveled and slept in. He actually doesn’t mind waking up to this, to the presence of somebody else.

Kageyama yawns widely, his brain a little hazy but perfectly content in this moment. He gets up, gives his back and shoulders a good stretch, and shuffles into the apartment – where he’s immediately greeted with the sound of running water and clattering plates. It’s coming from the kitchen area, accompanied by a faint sizzling and the delicious smell of food. To Kageyama’s slight surprise he discovers that Hinata is still there. He’s standing by the stove, stirring something around in a frying pan. His shirt is untucked and a bit creased, but he looks shamelessly fresh and upbeat for someone who hadn’t planned to sleep over, let alone in bed hugging another guy.

“You’re awake! Good morning!”

Hinata’s bright greeting wakes Kageyama up for real, startling him. He looks up to find him grinning widely, holding the pan in one hand and a couple of plates in the other.

“Morning,” he replies with a mutter, suddenly embarrassed. He reaches up to mess with his hair in an attempt to cover up his red cheeks.

“You looked peaceful so I let you sleep in. I made us breakfast in the meantime! You didn’t have a lot to choose from though, I hope you’re okay with bacon and eggs.”

“Yeah…” Kageyama sits down at the kitchen table, feeling like a bad host. “I usually grab something on my way to work and then order take-out at the office. I don’t do a lot of grocery shopping…”

“You gotta consider cutting back on work a little,” Hinata says sternly as he flips a fried egg sunny-side up onto Kageyama’s plate. “Stress and an unhealthy lifestyle can kill you too, you know.”

“I know,” Kageyama sighs and reaches for the coffee pot. “But this case comes first, I’m afraid. I can’t slack off now that I’m onto something.”

“Well, once it’s over you should. Slack off, I mean.”

Kageyama picks up his fork and punctures the egg yolk, his toast soaking slowly in warm yellow. He moves the bacon around on his plate, tries to figure out a suitable reply but only ends up with a question that comes out sounding far more fragile and insecure than he intended.

“You really think this will be over?”

“Of course!” Hinata assures him through a mouthful, oblivious to his tone. “I have absolute faith that you’ll get to the bottom of this, throw all the bad guys behind bars, and then the death threats and everything will stop. You won’t need a bodyguard anymore.”

Kageyama nods in agreement, despite his strange disappointment. Hinata is right; he won’t need a bodyguard once this is over. And Kageyama definitely wants this to be over. He’s not sure what his problem is so he doesn’t follow up with anything else.

Hinata observes him quietly. “Work today?”

Kageyama thinks about it, unsure if he’s really up for it today, before he suddenly remembers he needs to be in court later. “Yeah, I’ll tell Tsukishima to expect us by lunch.” He hesitates, looks Hinata over. “I, um… I guess you maybe wanna take a shower…?”

“If I could that’d be awesome.”

“Do you need a change of clothes, too? We can probably stop by your place on the way –”

“No need! These are perfectly fine.” Hinata gives him a little wink and smiles. “I have my tricks on how to make a shirt look brand new. Nobody will know a thing except you.”

Kageyama is once again reminded of how he had literally begged Hinata to stay in his bedroom and how he had clung onto him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat that’s rapidly spreading all the way from his neck to his forehead.

“Then you go first. Towels are in the drawer, use anything else you need.”

“Thank you!” Hinata wolfs down the rest of his breakfast at record speed. “It’ll take no more than ten minutes, I promise. You just relax and enjoy your coffee in the meantime!”

The bathroom door closes and Kageyama slumps over his half-finished breakfast, mortification fully catching up with him. Last night he was obviously delirious but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. He took all the premises of a professional working relationship and threw them out the window, basically forcing Hinata to stay with him.

But – now that he’s seeing everything in the light of day he can’t help but think it was kind of nice, too. He hasn’t had proper human contact in, well… forever. He’s always working and hasn’t dated anyone since university, which in the end didn’t amount to much. Kageyama lives and breathes being alone and busy. He’s a workaholic and he knows it; he accepts it and he surrenders to it. However, last night made him realize how much he doesn’t mind having someone to rely on and keep him company. He’s missing something he’s never really known.

Hinata stays true to his promises; it doesn’t take him more than ten minutes to get ready. When he exits the bathroom it doesn’t even look like he’s spent the night. He could just as well have arrived straight from home. Kageyama doesn’t say anything but has to admit he’s impressed.

By the time they finally arrive at the office it’s already nearing lunchtime. Tsukishima, who witnessed the assassination attempt firsthand, doesn’t look any worse for wear. Kageyama would be worried if he did; he knows his assistant is made of tougher stuff than that. He also isn’t one for stupid questions so he doesn’t ask how he’s doing or how his day off was. Instead he gives him a nod and quietly leaves the case documents he needs on his desk. Kageyama is thankful for it.

He looks through his paper mail first, then checks his emails, before he ends up sifting through the documents, even though he’s been more or less prepared for this particular case for a while. It’s not as extensive or serious as his main case, but if anything it serves as a nice distraction. Hinata was probably right about cutting down on his workload. Kageyama knows he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep but once this is over he definitely will. He’ll try, at least.

“They put Ushijima-san in custody.”

Tsukishima enters the office and sets a cup of coffee in front of him. Kageyama lights up, surprised to hear this.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. But they didn’t have anything on him so he was released shortly after.”

“Oh.” Kageyama deflates. “So we know nothing, then?”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “The police said the shot came from an empty office space in the building across the street, but it wasn’t searched until much later. By then they were already long gone. Ushijima-san himself claims to know nothing about it and the incident also spooked him enough to clam up entirely. He refuses to witness now.”

Kageyama believes it when Ushijima says he didn’t know anything about the shooting. And he believes it’s not a lacking sense of morality that’s keeping him from taking the witness stand; he’s just not willing to take the risk. And he can’t really blame anyone for wanting to save themselves.

“Someone should still keep an eye on him – for his own safety, if anything.”

“The police are on it.”

“So nothing new while I was away? Nothing from Bokuto or Kuroo, or any of my other informants?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

Kageyama huffs, frustrated and disappointed. “So I was seconds away from having my brains blown out but even then I’m surrounded by incompetent people who can’t come up with anything.”

Tsukishima pauses and narrows his eyes, lips pursed around a biting remark that he’s obviously unable to hold back. “I apologize for that,” he replies sourly. “But it’s nice to see that the incident didn’t kill off your entitled kingly attitude, at least.”

“Whatever.” Kageyama scowls, ashamed by a comment he knows was out of line. “I have to be in court now.”

**

Luckily his other case goes well and a sense of productivity and usefulness gradually returns. There’s also Hinata, whose tangerine presence is just a few seats away, and it’s reassuring to have him there. In the end Kageyama is kind of enjoying himself, the court session flies by, and the prosecution can be proud of a job well done. By the time he gathers his things to leave he’s in a considerably lighter mood.

“Let’s go grocery shopping,” he suggests as Hinata escorts him out of the courtroom.

“Grocery shopping?”

“And join me at my place afterwards,” he adds, struck with sudden inspiration. “I’ll be the one to cook this time.”

Hinata lights up and skips a couple of steps to keep up with him. “For real?”

“Yeah for real, dumbass. Wanna come or not?”

“Obviously,” he grins. “I’m your bodyguard, I kinda have to.”

Kageyama snorts. “Then why am I even asking?”

It’s easily the most shopping he’s done in several months. Just having to navigate his way through a supermarket, and getting his vegetables and proteins fresh from the counter instead of a take-out box, reminds him of how unhealthy his lifestyle has been. He definitely wouldn’t hesitate taking up running again if only it hadn’t been for the police basically grounding him. They probably won’t let him run outside even with a bodyguard, but his apartment building does come with a perfectly functional gym. Maybe he should ask Hinata to accompany him someday.

“So what’re you gonna make?” Hinata asks once they’re back.

“Don’t know… What’d you wanna eat?”

“Ginger pork.”

Kageyama gives it a thought and then shrugs. “Okay, sounds good.”

Hinata looks up from the grocery bags, wide-eyed. “Seriously?”

“I don’t see why not… It’s not exactly complicated.” Kageyama starts rifling through his fridge, which is becoming fuller and fuller by the minute. “I think I’ve got all the ingredients…”

Hinata smiles and rolls his sleeves up. “Alright! Then I’ll make the seasoning!”

Cooking dinner together is nice, a lot nicer than Kageyama expected. It’s a scene reminiscent of what couples do, and the way couples act. It’s way too familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. He blushes and quickly busies himself with the contents in the frying pan before they get burnt.

“I think it’s done,” he says, embarrassed by his own thoughts. “Let’s eat.”

The good atmosphere in the kitchen follows them into the living room and lingers there through the remainder of the evening. Kageyama’s not sure if he’s the only one who’s noticed but personally he doesn’t mind this mood at all. Besides, Hinata is wonderful company. He’s funny and friendly, his personality is open and generous – and he’s definitely easy on the eyes as well. Kageyama is genuinely enjoying himself like this. It’s nice to have dinner with someone else, just talking casually. Work hasn’t even crossed his mind these past few hours, and neither has the attempted assassination. He’s just living any other normal life, sharing a moment with another person. When they end up on the topic of work again, it’s Hinata who brings it up.

“I didn’t know that being a prosecutor was so risky,” he admits. He cracks open another can of beer and hands it to Kageyama.

“It’s usually not.”

“No?”

“No, this is mostly my fault. I was stupid and started digging. Now I have to see it through.”

Hinata rests his chin in his palm and looks at him across the table. “You’re a bit young to be doing this, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Kageyama can only agree with that statement. This is not the kind of case he imagined himself taking when he passed the bar exam, but he suspects his young age and his then fresh promotion were the reasons why the police came to him. Plus everyone else were reluctant, or even too scared, to look into this particular issue. So if he fails, or if he gives up, or if something should happen to him in the process, it would be easier for the district to explain it away. In a sense he’s still considered a rookie in the game and despite his talent he doesn’t have that many big wins under his belt yet; there’s no real reputation at stake. This case will either bring him fame or throw him into infamy and Kageyama doesn’t want either. He only wants some sense of justice to be done. If he can’t do it then nothing will change and his royal nickname will _definitely_ become a joke.

“If this becomes my mission in life then it’s a good thing I’m young, right? Can’t imagine taking this on at seventy or something.”

“By the time you’re seventy you’ve hopefully long since retired.”

“Hopefully.”

“I think you could’ve easily become something else law-related.” Hinata continues his musing and gestures vaguely into the air, looking for words. “Like… a professor or something.”

“Me? A professor?” Kageyama snorts a laugh. “You gotta be kidding.”

“It’d be safer than this for sure.”

“I’d die of boredom.”

“Aren’t you scared when you have to face criminals in court?” Hinata asks suddenly. He leans forward and meets Kageyama’s eyes directly, like he just demanded a particularly outrageous truth from him. “You’re the one who put them there and they know it. Isn’t that scary?”

Automatically, Kageyama leans away. It’s not the question itself that brings heat to his cheeks or that makes his belly flip; it’s his instinctive reaction to Hinata’s intense gaze. That his heart should tremble so much just from having someone stare at him is far more shocking than anyone he’s ever had to face in court. But it’d be embarrassing to tell Hinata that.

“I’m not scared of them,” he mutters, looking down at his empty plate. “Not in court anyway. I happen to be in a position where I have the power to potentially stop them. I can’t let that go to waste, even if it makes me a target. So I don’t have time to be scared.”

Hinata observes him quietly, his expression unreadable. Then he leans back and sighs, a wide, almost irritated grin on his lips.

“Man… You’re so cool, it’s annoying. Watching you in court today made me realize how intimidating you can be, too. Anyone would crumble in front of you.”

Kageyama frowns. “I’m not intimidating.”

“Yes, you are!” Hinata laughs brightly. “But it’s fine, you fit this job perfectly, even though you’re young and even though you’re a targeted person.”

“Don’t say weird things.” Kageyama squirms under the burden of having to accept a genuine compliment, as well as the overwhelming attack that is Hinata’s smile and laughter. “You’re also pretty young,” he adds, just for the sake of having something to say. “For your line of work, I mean.”

“I’m in my prime. It’s not like you’d want an old bodyguard, right?”

“That’s age discrimination,” Kageyama points out and then smirks. “You’re kinda short to be a bodyguard, too.”

“What – Oi!” Hinata splutters, offended. “That – that’s height discrimination!”

“That’s not even a thing.”

“I don’t care, take it back!”

They carry on with their lighthearted bickering while clearing away the dishes. Hinata insists he’s not short while Kageyama makes fun of him for being unable to reach the top shelf.

Once again he catches himself thinking that this is nice. This evening could just as well have been a glimpse into somebody else’s home, where the workday is finished and their friend or partner has been invited over. The lights are always on in other people’s homes; their dinners and their conversations are like this every night. This must be what normalcy feels like.

Kageyama can’t take these dinners for granted. Instead he must be protected because his life is in danger, and that’s not even the opposite of normal. It’s an extraordinary situation. People are literally out to kill him and that’s his personal reality, his personal everyday life.

It reminds him that Hinata is basically on the clock. He’s here with him right now because he’s working. It’s not really a casual dinner when the other person is still on the job. And why did Kageyama even suggest they do this? Hadn’t he been opposed to the idea of a bodyguard from the start? And hadn’t Hinata told him he’d remain an anonymous, hardly noticeable presence in his life? It seems like they both forgot about this premise.

They end up hesitating awkwardly by the kitchen counter. There’s no natural progression to the evening now that dinner is finished; there’s no obvious reason for them to continue hanging out. They’re neither friends nor colleagues. They’re not supposed to be _anything_.

“So… I should probably get going,” Hinata says, edging slowly towards the entryway.

“Yeah,” Kageyama nods. “It’s… pretty late.”

“Sure you’re okay on your own?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Hinata smiles stiffly. “Great.”

It’s unclear who makes the first move – at least to Kageyama it is. He’s reaching for Hinata’s jacket to give it to him, just like a good host is supposed to do, but apparently they’re both thinking the same thing. His hand accidentally touches Hinata’s and there’s a spark behind that touch, a literal shock that forces him to snatch his hand back. A shiver shoots up his arm, leaving his skin buzzing and his spine tingling, and something squeezes tightly around his wrist. It takes him a second to realize that Hinata has grabbed a hold of him.

Kageyama meets a pair of golden eyes and the cramped space of air between them is electric. It lasts for just one moment; one moment of emotions pushing and pulling, crammed into the tiniest bracket of time. A heartbeat later he’s shoved back against the wall with Hinata’s lips pressed against his.

The impact makes his shoulders sting, his waist now trapped in an iron grip by Hinata’s hands. Kageyama fumbles blindly, his hands reaching everywhere, slipping across Hinata’s jawline and into his hair, fingers curled around soft copper.

The kiss is so heated and intense that it catches him off guard. His mind is reeling, his thoughts melted into nothing, and all he’s aware of is the weight of Hinata’s body pressed against his, the soft lips insistently parting his own, and the taste of light beer on his tongue.

This is really, really nice – and really, _really_ bad.

They break apart abruptly, freezing to a halt, chests heaving. Hinata’s hair is disheveled, his cheeks dusted bright pink, his lips plump and red and basically inviting him to reconnect. Kageyama is no more than one exhale away from grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing _him_ against the wall, but he’s trapped there staring back into those wide eyes, feeling just as shocked and horrified as Hinata looks.

“I –” he begins, but his brain has currently turned into a whirlwind, making it hard to focus on anything but the burning sensation on his lips and the goosebumps on his skin.

“I should… I should get going,” Hinata repeats numbly and removes his hands from Kageyama’s waist, his warmth lingering. “I – yeah.”

He bunches his jacket up under his arm, struggles blindly with his shoes for a good half minute, before he staggers for the door. Once he’s past the threshold he stops for a moment, swaying a little on the spot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his expression dazed. “Uh, sleep well… Okay? Good – good night.”

Before Kageyama can even think of replying Hinata bolts down the corridor and is gone in the blink of an eye, the descending elevator dinging softly in his wake.

**

The next morning is awkward. Unsurprisingly.

As always Kageyama opens the door to an impeccably dressed Hinata, they exchange the usual greetings, and their ride to work is fine. Yet the air between them is undeniably charged with unspoken words and flickering glances. It feels like riding an empty bus where the next passenger chooses to sit right next to you, despite having several empty seats to choose from – or like seeing someone you’d rather avoid browsing the same aisle at the store, but then they spot you before you can run away. Everything’s okay on the surface but Kageyama can’t quite look Hinata in the eye and Hinata also stays one good step behind him.

Awkwardness is usually something Kageyama can deal with. He’s no stranger to uncomfortable situations, especially not in court, and he’s definitely had to sit through his share of unpleasant meetings.

But this is different. To have Hinata around distracts him too much. For once it’s not enough to bury himself in his work. He’s just too aware of his bodyguard’s presence in the room, the mood surrounding them becoming more and more loaded by the hour. Even Tsukishima seems to notice that the atmosphere in his office has changed and that the air is so thick it can practically be sliced through with a knife. He glances suspiciously at the both of them, leaves his letters and sticky notes, and then retreats as if he doesn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary.

Lunchtime rolls around and the whole situation has made the transition from awkward to annoying. Being unable to ignore it gets on Kageyama’s nerves and he’s starting to realize, with increasing dread, that they might actually have to talk about what happened.

He looks over at Hinata, who’s on the settee in the corner, restlessly leafing through a monthly law journal without actually reading it.

“Oi,” he says, his voice loud and out of place, which kind of pisses him off because this is _his_ office. “Let’s go out for lunch this time.”

The café across the street is a small, inconspicuous place where Kageyama knows they have good coffee and where the layout is neat enough for Hinata’s paranoid liking. Kageyama orders for the both of them and tags along to the table Hinata has chosen, which is in the quietest corner at the back, well away from any windows.

“Thanks for the food!”

Hinata digs into his sandwich before Kageyama has even sat down, and for some stupid reason the first few minutes are wasted on an unspoken competition of who finishes their meal first. He still has a mouthful left when Hinata triumphantly curls up his empty napkin and for a little while he sits there brooding over half a cup of lukewarm coffee.

Then the awkwardness finally joins them at their table. Kageyama stalls for time, buys a couple of seconds by pretending to check his phone but can’t do anything to pass the remaining twenty minutes. This will be the longest lunch of his life.

He knows he has to say something so he attempts to channel his court persona, the one that makes him stern and confrontational, but in the end it only results in him glaring across the table at his bodyguard.

“What’s up with you?” Hinata asks suspiciously. “You wanna fight or are you just constipated?”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Kageyama pauses, takes a breath, regroups his words. “I mean… about last night, I just wanted to –”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

The interruption takes him by surprise. He finds Hinata smiling sheepishly back at him.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he continues, voice wavering unsurely. “I seriously don’t know what came over me but I promise it won’t happen again. Please don’t fire me or anything.”

Silence closes up around them and Kageyama is thoroughly dumbfounded. That can’t be it. He hasn’t even figured out how to properly broach the topic and yet Hinata beat him to it, immediately shutting him down by offering an apology that sounds both fake and rehearsed, like he already decided before showing up to work that he wasn’t going to talk about this. It’s a response that would never hold up in court but Kageyama’s not in court right now. This is an entirely different situation altogether and he has no idea how he’s supposed to deal with it. He’s almost compelled to accept these words for what they are and move on, even though that doesn’t seem right either. He’s definitely missing something here that he can’t put his finger on.

“Okay…” he replies, feeling both stupid and disappointed. “Then, I’m also sorry…?”

“No, you shouldn’t be!” The color rises in Hinata’s cheeks, spreading to his neck and disappearing under his collar. “I mean, you’re technically my boss!” he elaborates hastily. “In hindsight, it didn’t exactly seem like a great move, you know?”

“I… guess not.”

“And like, it’s probably best we keep our relationship professional, right?” Hinata continues, palms up in a placating gesture. “So that’s why I’m saying sorry. I acted on impulse, I was way out of line, and I apologize.”

It’s clear now that Kageyama is simply being rejected. As a prosecutor he’s not used to people doing that to him. Hinata knows this very well, no matter how much he tries to pretend that he doesn’t. And it annoys him to no end that he can’t think of something even remotely sensible to say – besides, who is he to argue with a perfectly reasonable apology? All he can do is accept it.

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Just wanted to address the situation and, uh – clear the air.”

There’s a trace of genuine concern in Hinata’s expression, which is mirrored in his voice. “Things aren’t gonna be weird between us or anything?”

There’s another spark of irritation in Kageyama’s chest and he bites down on his tongue for a moment. This conversation solved nothing and he hates it. He hates that he could easily forget about it but something in him doesn’t want to. He hates that he has no idea where he even wants to go with this and it’s probably going to bother him forever.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” he replies curtly and stands up, chair scraping unnecessarily loudly against the floor. “Come on, I have things to do.”

When they make it back he immediately receives a heads-up from Tsukishima, who shoots him a look of warning and nods over his shoulder. His office pans into view and through the glass wall Kageyama spots someone he definitely never thought he’d see there.

Miya Atsumu is leaning against his desk, his arms crossed, the usual crooked smile on his lips. He runs a hand through his blond hair and straightens up when Kageyama enters the room, a cautious Hinata following suit.

“Hello, Tobio-kun. It’s been a while.”

“You better be here because you’ve got something important for me,” Kageyama replies. “Showing up in person isn’t your style. Kinda feels like a bad omen.”

“So if I told you I missed you and wanted to see your face it wouldn’t be reason good enough?”

“Who’s this?” Hinata interrupts them with a suspicious glare directed at Atsumu.

“He’s one of my informants,” Kageyama explains sourly. “He’s valuable when he’s serious and otherwise… not so much.”

“That’s a little harsh.” Atsumu tilts his head at Hinata and gives him a measured look, eyes narrowed. “So I see the rumors were true. You really got yourself a bodyguard. Your name’s Hinata Shouyou – right?”

Hinata doesn’t confirm it, just locks eyes with him while discreetly unbuttoning his jacket so that his gun holster shows. The tension is a little unsettling and Kageyama cuts in before it actually becomes an issue.

“What do you mean, rumors?”

“You were seconds away from being assassinated,” his informant shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, you’re the face of the prosecution in what is probably the case of the century. That someone tried to kill you over it is pretty big news. You getting a bodyguard isn’t gonna pass us by.”

Kageyama sighs and leaves it at that, knowing he’s right but nonetheless annoyed by how nonchalantly he talks about his criminal case.

“So you got anything for me or not?”

“Maybe,” Atsumu hums. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Kageyama repeats with a scowl.

“Well, I’ve had a few eyes on Ushijima ever since he was released from custody.”

“And?”

“Can’t say if it’s suspicious or not but lately he’s definitely been… skittish.”

“Skittish?”

“Yeah. Kinda looks like a guy who’s fearing for his life, if you ask me.”

“That’s a given and not evidence of anything,” Kageyama states, unimpressed. “He’s obviously under a lot of stress right now. Besides, the police also have eyes on him, they could’ve told me that much. That’s really what you came here for?”

Atsumu pauses and regards him wordlessly. Kageyama thinks he catches an ever so tiny glint of concern in his eyes, surfacing just for a brief second. He steadily holds his gaze, waits for that flicker to show up again, but it seems to have melted back into the same perpetually unreadable expression. Atsumu smiles wryly and approaches him.

“I’ve also got a word of advice for you, Tobio-kun.”

Just when Kageyama thinks he’s going to walk past him he suddenly stops. He’s about to step away when Atsumu reaches out and rests his hand on Kageyama’s neck, thumb pressing against his jaw, pulling him closer.

“Hey!” Hinata’s reaction is immediate, his hand reaching for his gun in a heartbeat. “Keep your distance!”

Atsumu doesn’t flinch one bit. Instead he leans in, so close Kageyama is convinced he’s actually going to kiss him – before he moves past his mouth and his cheek, his lips nearly brushing the shell of his ear.

“Don’t trust anyone, no matter how close you are,” he whispers quietly, his breath hot. “Be careful.”

It’s just simple advice. It’s the simplest advice somebody could ever give him. At the same time it’s also the most startling one.

Kageyama knows this already. He _is_ careful. He takes his precautions all the time, with everyone. But to hear these words in the low tone of Atsumu’s voice sends a chill down his spine. The delivery is far too intense for it to be nothing but simple advice. Instead, it sounds more like a warning. This isn’t about Ushijima at all. Atsumu knows something but he’s not at liberty to tell him. There’s something more behind this; something he’s missing.

He doesn’t elaborate on it, however – only pats Kageyama’s neck a couple of times before stepping away, the same smile suddenly back on his face.

“Calm down, Shouyou-kun, I’m leaving,” he says amicably and holds his hands up. “No need to get so heated over a little hug.”

“What the hell was that just now?!” Hinata exclaims, glaring after Atsumu’s retreating back until he’s out of sight. “I could’ve ended up shooting him for no good reason!”

Kageyama realizes he hasn’t moved from his spot ever since he entered his office. Atsumu’s words continue ringing in his ears and with every mental replay they seem more and more frightening. Was it really a warning – or was it actually a threat? Maybe he showed up just to play with him, make him more paranoid. He wouldn’t put it past Atsumu to do that.

Hinata tilts his head at him. “Are you okay?”

“Uh… Yeah.” Kageyama tries to wrestle the frown off his face in the most inconspicuous way and moves behind his desk, aimlessly picking up some documents to occupy his hands with. “Just didn’t expect that guy to show up here.”

Hinata bristles at the mention of Atsumu. “Yeah, what kind of informant is he anyway? How do you know him?”

“He’s an acquaintance of mine who happens to be well-connected throughout this city’s underbelly, both him and his twin brother.”

“So he’s a criminal?”

“No…” Kageyama reconsiders, searching for words. “Or, not exactly. He’s definitely a grey area kind of guy; loopholes were basically made for him. But as long as he provides me with valuable information from time to time, and as long as he doesn’t kill anybody to get it, then I’m willing to let a few things slide.”

Tsukishima chooses that moment to poke his head through the door, interrupting them. “What did Miya-san want? Rare to see him here in person.”

“He came to tell me that Ushijima’s been skittish lately, apparently.”

“And?” Tsukishima frowns at him over his glasses. “The police could’ve told you that.”

“That’s what I said. But he also –”

Kageyama cuts himself off abruptly, lips pressed into a tight line. He can still feel Atsumu’s hand on his neck and his breath in his ear and he can’t help but shudder. If he was told to be careful about placing his trust in people then he shouldn’t really discuss it with anyone – including his assistant.

“He what?” Tsukishima prompts.

“Never mind.” Kageyama sighs, heart heavy in his chest. “He’s just a fool.”

Tsukishima contemplates this, something like suspicion flitting across his expression, but in the end he shrugs.

“Well, if Miya-san felt it was worth gracing us with his presence just to tell you that then there could be something more to it. Maybe Hinata should stay with you for a few nights, just to be safe.”

Next to him Hinata freezes up, a blotchy red emerging on his cheeks. Kageyama can’t blame the poor guy. Considering what happened last night and the strange conversation they had earlier, he can’t think of anything more awkward than suddenly having to live together. He glares up at Tsukishima, trying to get some kind of point across, but his assistant only stares blankly back at him and Kageyama realizes he’s actually being serious.

That damn Tsukishima.

He clears his throat and looks down at his papers, which he’s been clutching in his hands for several minutes now. It would be weird of him to refuse a reasonable suggestion like that and Hinata isn’t in any position to protest. He kind of has no other choice but to fold.

“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees, resigned. “Good idea.”

**

It’s strange having his bodyguard show up at his place with an overnight bag, like he’s just a friend looking for a temporary place to stay. It’s strange having him _not_ leave after dinner, it’s strange having to take the spare futon out every night, and it’s strange having to wake up and go through the morning routine together.

Hinata is like a piece of furniture that Kageyama can’t seem to find a good place for, he just keeps walking around it all annoyed because it clashes with the current design. If only they hadn’t kissed their relationship would have remained the same and this wouldn’t have been a problem. Hinata would never have felt the need to reject him so aggravatingly, and Kageyama wouldn’t have to catch himself constantly wondering how living a normal life with a partner would be like. But he supposes things will never be the way they were after this case anyway.

It doesn’t help that Kageyama can’t seem to shake the unsettling feeling left by Atsumu’s visit. His ability to concentrate is blocked by budding anxiety and lurking paranoia, and his case is turning into something vague, everything dissolving out of his hands like cotton in water. Every time he thinks there’s a break it turns out to be fake or useless and the door closes, pushing him back five steps. He’s just waiting for something potentially terrible to happen at any time, like a sitting duck, and Kageyama _hates_ waiting. He might as well submerge himself and attempt to breathe while drowning. Same thing.

“What’s the matter?” Hinata asks, his voice oddly muted inside the carpeted elevator. “You’ve been looking more and more constipated these days.”

“I’m not.” Kageyama watches the descending numbers on the display. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Then I’m sure a run will re-energize you!” Hinata declares brightly and pats his shoulder. “Nothing like some physical exercise when you’ve got indigestion.”

“I said that’s not it, you idiot.”

Ideally Kageyama would have wanted to run a couple of laps through the park rather than spending late hours at the gym – but treadmilling it is better than nothing and it feels good to be running again. He’s also not at all in terrible shape, despite his inactive lifestyle the past few months. He’s pleased to discover that he keeps up just fine with Hinata, who appears to have stamina for days. Not surprising for a well-trained bodyguard.

He watches the muted evening news for a while before realizing that Hinata keeps side-eyeing him and increasing the speed on his treadmill every time Kageyama does. They go back and forth for a few kilometers, a silent competition between them, but at the forty-minute mark they’re full on sprinting as if there’s actually a finish line up ahead. It ends with both of them collapsed on the floor, completely out of breath.

“You – you were the one who stopped first –!” Hinata wheezes, crouched on all fours.

“Not me –” Kageyama gasps, sprawled out on his back, a painful sting in his side. “It was you.”

“Was not –!”

“Was too –”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

Hinata croaks another ‘no way’ under his breath before his voice drowns in a coughing fit. Kageyama is prepared to throw another retort at him but all he manages is a breathless huff. Said huff soon turns into a halting giggle and he quickly hides his face, trying to hold back, but it’s too late. He laughs into his palms, the sound muffled but unashamed, and the tight knot in his chest eases up a little.

So maybe he needs to be careful about trusting people but at least he’s got Hinata. Hinata is a neutral person with no stakes in this stupid case; he’s just someone who looks after him, keeps him company, and even manages to make him laugh. He’s become a friend of sorts. Things may be awkward between them at the moment but the case has to end at one point. And maybe they’re looking at possible second chances, when that time comes.

“What’s up with you?” Hinata stares at him, confused by his cheerful outburst. “Did you run too hard or something?”

“Never thought it’d be me and my bodyguard against the world,” Kageyama murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” he says and struggles to get up from the floor. “Come on – I won so I get to shower first. You start dinner in the meantime.”

“Hey!” Hinata pipes up, offended, and chases after him. “That’s totally unfair! I won!”

“No, you didn’t, dumbass.”

“Did too!”

“Did _not._ ”

**

Much later, after an enjoyable dinner and some quiet TV-time, Kageyama wakes up in the dead of night to his bedroom door clicking open. The handle turns very quietly, a nearly soundless movement, and if it hadn’t been for the following thud and the barely contained ‘ouch!’ he would have fallen right back asleep.

He peers groggily at the clock on his nightstand; the glowing red numbers are fast approaching 3 a.m. This is definitely not a time for any visitors to be in his bedroom or in his apartment at all for that matter. He’s not facing the door, and his head is still too clouded with the abrupt disturbance of sleep for his thoughts to jump to any anxious conclusions or for him to even consider turning around to check. Instead he tries to figure out what it could possibly mean, the fact that his bedroom door has most likely been opened at this hour.

Kageyama is starting to wonder if he really just dreamt the whole thing up when he thinks he hears muffled footsteps padding across the carpet. That wakes him up a little bit more, something stirring in the back of his mind, before the person behind him suddenly clears their throat. The sound is shockingly loud in the quiet room and sends his consciousness crashing through the fog of his addled brain.

He jolts awake, adrenaline coursing through his body, and he stares into the pitch darkness with increasing panic. Someone else is definitely in the room with him, there’s no way he dreamt all that. He doesn’t even need to be able to see them; he can feel the presence of somebody standing right behind him, as though they’re radiating heat. He knows he should turn around and slam the lights on, but before he can move a hesitant voice speaks up, barely above a whisper.

“You asleep?”

Kageyama freezes up, caught by surprise, before he exhales shakily. Relief floods him, relaxing his tense muscles, and he could’ve immediately drifted off to sleep again. It’s just Hinata, thank god.

A split second later it hits him how out of character it is for Hinata to actually be in his bedroom in the middle of the night, and his eyes snap open again. There was no urgency in his voice, he didn’t even try to shake him awake, so it can’t be anything serious – but on the other hand it’s unsettling that he’s even there in the first place.

“I _was_ ,” Kageyama mutters into his pillow, a little annoyed now that he’s coming to his senses for real and the expectation of a good night’s sleep is about to be robbed from him for whatever reason.

Hinata exhales an apologetic laugh. “Sorry for waking you.”

“’S fine. What is it?”

There’s a long pause before the mattress dips behind him, the weight of someone sitting down on the bedside. Kageyama doesn’t protest. He waits for a while, tries to make sense of the strange vibes he’s getting from Hinata right now. It’s like he’s suddenly turned into someone else.

“Don’t you think it’s weird to put so much trust in one person?”

Kageyama frowns, immediately wary of this unexpected question. “Why… would you ask that?”

“I mean… isn’t it strange? That your life is literally in my hands?”

“Well – no? I hired you for this.”

“Right,” Hinata quietly says after a short pause, and there’s an odd trace of sadness in his voice – sadness that’s so palpable it sticks out like a sore thumb. “Then how do you know I can be trusted?”

Kageyama stumbles in his thoughts, his brain still lagging a little. To put it mildly he’s had a bit of an issue with the word ‘trust’ lately, and he has to admit it doesn’t necessarily sound any better or reassuring in Hinata’s voice. Especially not when he phrases it like that.

But it had sounded like a genuine question, all the same. It’s not a cleverly masked threat, nor is it a delirious fragment left by a bad dream. It’s the kind of question you’d ask when doubt and insecurity keeps you awake, leaving you to toss and turn all night. It’s not something Kageyama wants to hear from the person who’s in charge of his safety, but he supposes everyone has their moments. Hinata is just a human being.

“If you really wanted to kill me or something then you’d have done it by now,” Kageyama states. “You’ve had plenty of chances – like right now. You could be aiming a gun at me and I wouldn’t know a thing.”

A moment of silence and then, “Why aren’t you turning around to see if that’s true?”

Kageyama thinks back on all the times he’s had to question witnesses and defendants, how he must stay calm and factual and never let his emotions bleed into the process, and maybe that routine can be applied to this moment – ignore the worry and suspicion that just kicked in and stick to his gut feeling.

“I don’t have to do that,” he replies, as matter-of-factly as he can. “Because I trust you.”

Hinata laughs weakly. “Okay, but who trusts someone just like that?”

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Kageyama pauses. “Plus you’re turned away from me right now. I can tell by the sound of your voice. And I think you’d at least have the decency to face me if you were about to do something.”

Hinata doesn’t seem to have a response to that. Nothing happens. Kageyama wonders if he’s maybe ashamed. He’s learned that people tend to look away when they’re embarrassed – or guilty.

He wrestles with his thoughts in the darkness. Things aren’t any less confusing now than they were earlier and it’s obvious they’re not getting anywhere. They could stay this way for hours but still be none the wiser come morning. Kageyama hesitates for another minute before finally turning around.

Hinata looks small sitting there on his bedside, wrapped in shadows and drained of all vibrant color. His broad shoulders are slumped, his neck bent, his back narrow. The t-shirt he’s sleeping in is black and worn and it takes Kageyama a minute to realize that the logo he’s staring at actually represents the premier league volleyball team MSBY Black Jackals. It’s merchandise – official, by the looks of it. So is Hinata a volleyball fan or is it just an old hand-me-down?

It hits him in that moment how little he actually knows about this guy. Granted, he didn’t go into this interested in friendship and neither did Hinata, but after warming up to each other and gaining some sort of warped closeness, Kageyama realizes he’s never truly made an effort to get to know him. He has no idea what his favorite sport is, if he’s got family anywhere, why he decided to become a bodyguard, what his likes and dislikes are, or even where he lives. He knows next to nothing about him and truth be told he feels kind of bad about it. Maybe he never was very good at taking his precautions.

“Are you about to give me a reason not to trust you?” Kageyama asks, finally breaking the silence.

Hinata shakes his head slowly and so does his shadow, a blurry shape on the wall. “I’m not,” he mutters. “But I’m asking you how you can trust _me_ , your bodyguard, and that should be reason enough for you to doubt me.”

It’s probably thanks to his sleep-deprived brain but Kageyama can’t really tell what Hinata means by that. To him it was just a question, nothing more, and it had sounded valid. When it comes to trust it’s reasonable to ask and Kageyama had answered accordingly. And Hinata is, even when struggling with this sudden 3 a.m. insecurity, still just a human being.

“Why don’t you lie down?”

The request makes Hinata tense up. He turns his head just a fraction, the outline of his nose faintly visible above the black slope of his shoulder.

“Lie down…? H-here?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama adds quietly. “Relax for a minute.”

A doubtful beat passes before the mattress shifts a little beneath them, the sheets crinkling as Hinata accepts his offer and gingerly lies down next to him. He remains flat on his back, just a shape in the dim light, someone forming a new landscape in his bed. He seems caught in between emotions, the line of his mouth tense, and Kageyama wonders if he should say something comforting.

“If your job is worrying you then… that’s normal. I still trust you just fine. Anything’s scary when lives are at stake, I guess.”

“I just think the gravity of it hit me,” Hinata says softly, after a thoughtful pause. “I’ve imagined many scenarios. You’ve died a hundred deaths in my head. So it scares me when you say you trust me just fine.”

“Well – no pressure, then.”

There’s a moment of silence before a stifled laugh floats into the room, and Kageyama is relieved that Hinata caught onto his joke even with the lack of tone. He takes that as an invitation to reach out and pull him closer, and without a word of protest Hinata lets him.

“Sleep,” Kageyama says gruffly. “Don’t imagine any more scenarios.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Sleep anyway, dumbass.”

Hinata exhales against his neck, a steadying breath. “I also wanted to apologize… for my apology.”

“Okay…?”

“I told you that I was sorry, for kissing you. That was a lie. I’m not sorry.” The shape pressed against him hesitates, squirms a little, and mumbles, “I kinda wanted to do it again.”

The situation flips a one-eighty with those words and Kageyama’s stomach flips with it. A surge of smug victory immediately rushes through him. He called it, didn’t he? He was right about Hinata’s bogus apology from the start. Just hearing him take it _back_ is a win in itself and Kageyama doesn’t care if it’s childish or petty of him; he prides himself in being right, especially about this. This has been a thorn in his side, something constantly gnawing in the back of his mind – and it’s not exactly helpful that Hinata for some reason makes him feel like a high schooler again, just a teenage boy chasing someone down a corridor at breakneck speed. It’s annoying.

Kageyama pulls away a little, encouraged by a sudden urge to provoke, and tries to get a good look at his bodyguard through the shadows – and then he changes his mind, the words dying in his throat.

Maybe it’s just the weak lights sifting in through the blinds, or maybe his eyes won’t adjust to the dark, but there’s a faltering expression on Hinata’s face, a smile or a frown that doesn’t quite make it. A resignation. It looks like he’s about to cry.

Kageyama doesn’t want him to cry. So he does the only thing he can think of and leans in to kiss him.

He’s gentle at first, tentatively testing Hinata’s lips, soft and a little chapped against his own. Hinata sighs faintly but doesn’t resist, only presses closer, his fist curling into the back of Kageyama’s t-shirt. He takes it as an invitation to continue, to open up and lean further into his warmth. He rests his hands on Hinata’s hips before letting them wander up his back. His skin is hot, clammy even, like he woke up from a bad dream earlier.

Truth be told, Kageyama knows what it’s like to worry. Some worries occupy his mind regularly; others are new for the day. If they end up growing closer and more intimate from now on, if they end up really caring for each other, then that’s just another thing on his list to worry about. It would hurt more than anything if Hinata got caught in the crossfire because of him, even if that’s his job. Kageyama’s worries are probably not the same as Hinata’s, but he gets it.

He can’t stop the moan that tears from his throat when Hinata’s hand drops down to palm the front of his boxers. There’s an unexpected desperation in Hinata’s movements; it’s not obvious but it’s there, barely restrained, hidden in the heat of deeper, bolder kisses. A muddled part of Kageyama’s rational mind is curious about what exactly prompted this, why Hinata had such a sudden change of mind, and what his speech about trust really meant. His paranoia resurfaces briefly, anxious that he’s currently being lured into something dangerous and that he’s losing sight of his own precautions. But Hinata is soft in all his urgency and this feels right, not to mention _good_ , and Kageyama becomes pliant and helpless against him.

A hand slips under the waistband of his boxers, fingers hot and feverish, and Kageyama throws all rationality and paranoia out the window. He fumbles blindly, his palm pressed against Hinata’s knuckles as he wraps his hand around them both. Hinata murmurs quietly under his breath, something along the lines of ‘Is this okay?’ The question is a little absurd and Kageyama huffs out a laugh in response. If the way he’s squirming into their hands isn’t enough to convey that this is more than ‘okay’ then he doesn’t have anything to say.

He tilts his gaze up and regrets he never turned the lights on. He can only imagine the way Hinata’s eyes flutter shut, the rosy tint on his cheeks, his tangerine hair curling softly against his temples, and he wishes he could see it. Instead Kageyama focuses on Hinata’s breathing as it quickens and grows more and more labored. Something about hearing his obvious pleasure also brings Kageyama closer to the edge and he pushes against him, his wrist starting to ache by now. Hinata comes right before he does, a moan passing his lips, and his body trembles, his free hand clutching tightly at the front of Kageyama’s shirt.

They lie there breathlessly, succumbing to an embarrassed silence where neither of them has the guts to look at the other. Kageyama’s senses return to him slowly, his muscles sore, a chill on his skin. Next to him Hinata takes a deep breath and reaches for the tissues on the nightstand. He hands a couple of them to Kageyama without saying anything, before he sits up and makes a move to leave.

“Where are you going?”

Hinata glances over his shoulder. “Uh – back to my futon?”

“Why? Just sleep here.”

“Here?” he repeats doubtfully, hesitant. “I don’t know –”

“We literally just got off to each other, dumbass,” Kageyama snaps. “Drop your bodyguard identity.”

Hinata’s shoulders stiffen, his voice rising one sharp octave. “What?”

“Just be a _person_ for a bit.”

“Oh…” The dark shape on his bedside relaxes. “Okay. I guess – I guess I’ll just sleep here, then.”

He lies down again and moves closer, easing willingly into the embrace he’s offered.

“See?” Kageyama murmurs into his hair. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“It’s nice actually,” Hinata replies quietly. “Really nice.”

He sounds sad when he says it, almost a little regretful, but Kageyama drifts off to sleep before he can question it.

**

“Do you really have to go into work today?”

Kageyama looks up from where he’s struggling with his cufflinks and frowns. Hinata watches him from the couch, already dressed and ready to go, and his question is confusing, to say the least.

“Why wouldn’t I go into work?”

“No reason…” Hinata shrugs. “Just would be nice if we could stay in.”

Something tugs at Kageyama’s heartstrings, a warm and fuzzy feeling settling somewhere in his chest. For all the apologizing and hesitating he’s been doing lately, Hinata actually seems to have reconsidered things for real. At one point during the early morning hours they had somehow changed positions and Kageyama had woken up locked tightly in Hinata’s embrace, his left arm partially numb and his cheek red with pillow creases. There’s not a single part of him that would mind those kinds of mornings for the rest of his life.

And yet something is off about this morning’s mood. Kageyama just can’t figure out what.

“Then, how about we stay in on the weekend?” he suggests and glances quickly at his watch. “Because staying in today is not an option. We actually have to go right now, we’re ridiculously late. It’s almost lunchtime. Tsukishima’s gonna murder me.”

He collects his laptop and his documents and throws his coat on, moving for the door. He’s in the process of patting down his pockets to make sure he didn’t forget anything when Hinata calls after him.

“Hey, your phone,” he says, picking up said item from the coffee table.

“Oh, right – bring it for me,” Kageyama replies and gestures over his shoulder, already halfway through the door. “Come on, dumbass, stop dragging your feet.”

It’s only once they’re in the car that he finally gets a good look at Hinata – and he notices how high strung he seems all of a sudden, even borderline irritable. He had been soft and smiley upon waking up, his sleepy presence so inviting that they ended up overstaying their time in bed (and making them both late). And he was perfectly fine at breakfast, chatty as always, with a healthy appetite.

Kageyama tries to remember where the mood turned around, if he said or did something to cause this, but he can only recall Hinata’s surprising request to stay in. Already in the elevator he had more or less gone mute, and by the time they stepped out of the building he had simply changed. The person sitting next to him now is far from his usual bright self. His gaze is constantly wandering, a deep crease between his eyes, his face worryingly pale. His gun holster is peeking out from behind his unbuttoned jacket, and one of his hands are resting close to it while the other one is moving restlessly without finding purchase anywhere.

Kageyama stares at Hinata’s fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his thigh and wonders how he’s supposed to interpret these mixed signals, or if he should even say anything. If he’s struggling with something then he’d love to help, but he could have his own reasons for not wanting to share his personal problems. Besides, what bodyguard would want to appear vulnerable in front of his client? He already did it once; twice will probably be too much for him to bear.

They’re making their way up the steps to the office building when Kageyama begins to ask what’s wrong, but someone interrupts him before he can even get a word out. The unfamiliar voice that calls out his name is sharp and loud, carrying easily above the buzz of the crowd and the traffic.

Hinata is the first one to react and turn around. Kageyama stops and follows suit, aware that there’s someone out there who’s trying to catch his attention. He scans the crowd but can’t spot anybody he knows.

What happens next is like a replay of that day at Ushijima’s office.

Hinata shouts Kageyama’s name and a split second later he’s being nudged violently out of the way. A loud noise, like a sharp whip, slices twice through the air in rapid succession, echoing into the sky. Pain shoots up Kageyama’s ribs as he lands on the hard ground and the crowd suddenly erupts in chaos. Confused and reasonably angry, he sits up and looks around, his bleary mind slowly gathering the pieces of what just happened.

A stranger is lying at the bottom of the stairs, his body an unmoving heap. There’s a gun in his hand. Kageyama’s heart lurches and speeds up, propelling his confusion and anger into anxiety. Just next to him, right at his feet, lies Hinata. He has also drawn his gun – and it’s also still in his hand. He’s on his back, eyes wide open facing the blue sky, and the front of his perfect white shirt is blooming crimson red.

Kageyama’s anxiety morphs into cold, numb fear. He vaguely registers the commotion surrounding him – escaping footsteps, panicking screams, jumbled words calling for help, calling for an ambulance, calling for the police – but he’s unable to comprehend any of it. For a long, excruciating moment his breath stops short in his lungs, a drawstring around his throat and a tangy taste on his lips, like he’s about to be sick – and then a weak moan suddenly escapes Hinata. He curls up, moves a trembling hand to his chest, and the sight of it coming away bloody finally snaps the world out of its standstill.

“Shit –” Kageyama scrambles towards him and reaches out, presses his palm against the darkest stain on his soaked shirt, as if it will actually make a difference. “Hinata – oh my god –”

“I –” Hinata wheezes thickly, a heavy trail of red making its way down the corner of his mouth. “I th– I think I –”

“Don’t talk, dumbass. Why –” Kageyama’s voice cracks and panic washes over him again. “Why the hell did you do that? You said you’d never take a bullet for me if you could help it.”

“I guess –” Hinata coughs, his face twisted in pain, but he still manages a small grin, his teeth tinted red. “Guess I couldn’t help it.”

**

Kageyama is at the hospital when he realizes his phone is missing. He’s searching through his pockets only to come up empty-handed, and he can’t for the life of him remember where he left it. It probably fell out of his pocket in all the chaos. It’s fine; he’s not sure who he’d call anyway. Maybe Tsukishima, just to let him know where he is, but so many people have been taking his name down in the blurry aftermath. He’s sure that those who are supposed to know, already knows.

What’s left for him now is to wait.

He has no idea how long it took before the ambulance reached them; it felt like hours but it was probably just a few minutes. Hinata was conscious when they parted, his mind still somewhat clear and present in the moment, but his eyes were wandering restlessly. They appeared bleary, like they couldn’t focus on anything, like they were about to roll back into his skull.

And his breath rattled, struggling to pass through his lungs. Kageyama can’t get that horrible sound out of his head.

Quite a few hours must’ve passed since then. Hinata has been in surgery for a while and Kageyama can’t tell for how long he’s been sitting in this waiting room. Time isn’t linear at the moment.

The incident itself and the minutes following it are foggy in his memory. He’s aware that somebody had tried to shoot him again, and he knows he explained himself coherently when the police questioned him earlier, but he can’t remember what he actually told them. It’s like a blank space in his mind, a scratched record that’s stuck in one place. He’s pretty sure he’s still in some kind of shock.

Kageyama looks down at his hands, which are sticky with dry blood. He didn’t pull the trigger but the fact that his hands are bloody seems accurate, deserving almost. He hired Hinata for a reason, they were both well aware of the risks – but he never thought they’d reach the point where he’d literally go and take a bullet for him. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. He wasn’t supposed to catch _feelings_ for him.

The double doors swing open and a surgeon finally steps into the quiet corridor. He removes his facemask, locks eyes with Kageyama, and strides over to him. A dizzying wave of tension courses through Kageyama’s body and tilts the floor a little, making him unsteady as he gets to his feet. He attempts to wipe his palms on his coat before realizing there’s no use, and he ends up wringing his hands in want of something to hold onto.

“Kageyama-san?”

“Yes?”

“I have good news for now: surgery was successful. It’s still too early to say for sure but we expect Hinata-san to make a full recovery.”

Something lets go inside Kageyama’s chest, at least temporarily. His insides turn warm and then cold and then warm again, shifting so rapidly it renders him both speechless and lightheaded. With a great sigh he slumps back onto the chair, his heart hammering in his ears, a raging mix of relief and anxiety leaving his limbs weak and trembling.

“It’s mostly thanks to this.”

The surgeon hands him a clear plastic bag. Sealed inside of the bag is something that resembles his phone – except it’s splintered and bloody, with a big open crater in the middle. For a moment he’s not even sure what he’s looking at before the surgeon speaks again.

“The bullet hit the phone first and it slowed down its momentum considerably,” he explains. “If he hadn’t carried this in his inner pocket I would probably be giving you very different news right now. Hinata-san was literally within an inch of his life. A miracle, in all honesty.”

Kageyama carefully turns the bagged phone over in his hands, staring at it, partly shocked and partly dumbfounded.

“This… this belongs to me,” he mutters in disbelief. “I was just looking for it and I… well, I thought…” Kageyama pauses, suddenly remembers how they had left in a hurry and how Hinata had pocketed his phone for him, and he exhales against the ‘what if’s threatening to invade his mind. He looks up, meets the surgeon’s eyes. “Can I see him?”

“I’m afraid he’s under observation right now. I recommend you check back in a week, when he’s likely to have made it through the most critical phase. If anything happens we’ll let you know.”

“Right… Um, are flowers allowed?”

The surgeon smiles a little and nods. “Flowers are allowed. But for now you won’t accomplish much by staying here. Please go home, Kageyama-san. Try to catch a good night’s sleep.”

Kageyama reluctantly agrees, expresses his deepest gratitude to the surgeon and his team, before he makes his way to the nearest restroom to wash his hands. He scrubs at his palms and knuckles for a while, the hot water almost scalding his skin, the air around him filled with a sickening smell of iron and disinfectant. Then he staggers into one of the empty stalls and throws up.

When he finally exits the restroom he finds Tsukishima waiting for him in the lobby. It’s a surprising sight, to say the least. Kageyama is about to ask how he found the time to visit him like this, if work isn’t giving him enough to do, until he realizes the day has actually proceeded well into the afternoon and that it’s already getting dark outside. Tsukishima’s office hours have long since closed; it’s time for him to go home. And yet he’s here, looking maybe a little more worried than Kageyama is used to seeing him.

“Are you okay?”

Kageyama shrugs. “Yeah, all things considered.”

Tsukishima nods, observes his pale face and pink hands, hesitates for a second. “And… Hinata?”

“They said he’ll make it.”

“Oh. Okay, good.” He seems to relax, relieved. “I’m glad.”

They stand there awkwardly, the sliding doors opening and closing behind them. “So…” Kageyama begins. “What’re you doing here?”

“The police told me what happened, obviously.” Tsukishima pouts, embarrassed. “Figured I’d come pick you up, make sure you got home okay.”

“Um…” Kageyama blinks at him, taken aback. “That’s not necessary…? I’m fine taking a taxi on my own.”

“Well –” His assistant gives his glasses an irritated nudge and clears his throat. “Knowing you, you’d probably head to the office and end up overworking yourself or something. I just wanted to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” He pauses briefly and then presses out, “Suit yourself, though.”

Kageyama scowls, his ears turning a guilty red. It’s true that he had considered heading to the office first, mostly for the sake of not having to stay in an empty apartment. He’s gotten so used to having Hinata around. Besides, being the only one at the office feels less lonely than being at home all alone, but that’s probably just the workaholic in him talking. It doesn’t make a difference. The best thing he can do right now is rest and he’s thankful for Tsukishima’s sensible foresight (as much as it annoys him).

“Okay,” he agrees. “Since you’re already here.”

When Kageyama sinks into the backseat of the taxi he feels his exhaustion deep in his bones. His body has been on constant alert ever since he arrived at the hospital and the slowly disappearing tension leaves his shoulders stiff and his back aching. He tilts his head against the cold window and exhales, closing his eyes against the bright neon of the passing city lights. He never thought it was possible to feel this tired. He never thought it was possible to feel this terrified, either – not for his own safety but for Hinata’s recovery. Suddenly he’s glad Tsukishima is there to keep him company.

“Hey…” he mutters quietly. “Could you please order a nice bouquet and have it dropped off at the hospital tomorrow? Get well flowers, obviously.”

“Sure. Consider it done.”

The taxi slows down for a red light and Kageyama pauses as well. His hands are trembling slightly and he forces them to rest in his lap. Some of the blood isn’t completely gone from around his fingernails and so he balls his hands into fists. He thinks maybe it’d be better if he left, removed himself from the equation altogether. Maybe he should’ve escaped to the mountains and deliberately placed himself under the mercy of Mother Nature. At some point something would eventually get to him, whether it be a snowstorm or a bear or starvation or whatever. At least it wouldn’t have consequences for anybody but himself.

“I can tell you’re thinking something really stupid right now.” Tsukishima lets out an exasperated groan. “The brain rot is palpable.”

“I’m not!” Kageyama snaps, flaring up for a second. “I just – it makes you think, alright? All this mess for one case, for one person… I never intended for anyone to get hurt, let alone almost killed.” He looks down at his clenched fists. “It honestly should’ve been me. I’m the targeted one.”

“Ideally it shouldn’t have been either of you,” his assistant replies. “But this isn’t an ideal world. That’s what you hired Hinata for, to do his job in an unsafe situation. And he did it well, considering you’re both still alive. So don’t wear that hurt expression,” he adds, murmuring. “It’s so unlike you, it gives me the creeps.”

Kageyama cracks a bitter smile, concealed by the dim lights of the taxi. “I guess this is a befitting end for a king, isn’t it? To have one of his subordinates risk his life for him?”

“Oh, _please_.” Tsukishima spits the words out so forcefully that Kageyama twitches with surprise. “Say that nickname with pride or say it jokingly – I don’t care. But I don’t _ever_ want to hear you say it like that. Wallowing in self-pity doesn’t suit you.”

They glare at each other, dark blue locked with sharp gold, and for a moment Kageyama would love nothing more than to punch him. He would have done it, too, if only Tsukishima hadn’t been so aggravatingly right about everything. How dare he be so spot on – and to his face, even. It’s ridiculous. Ridiculous and encouraging. Tsukishima is telling him off because he cares. More than anything Kageyama should appreciate the effort. He smirks, amused by how thoroughly he was just put in his place.

“So that’s how you talk to your superior, huh?”

The taxi comes to a stop outside his apartment building and Tsukishima leans across his lap to open the door for him.

“Just rest, for once in your life,” he sighs. “The fact that you’re so easy to deal with right now is out of character for you anyway.”

**

Life moves on, in its own strange way. A distinct sense of aftermath surrounds them. They’ve reached a point of finality, where they’ve emerged from the other side of the ordeal and now all they have to do is stay behind and process the results. For better or worse Kageyama is seeing the end of this case, for the first time since he started working on it. He’s resurfacing.

In the meantime, he tries not to think too much about Hinata. He’s in good hands, the reports say he’s recovering steadily, and the first week since the incident is soon over. Maybe Kageyama will be allowed to visit him. That’s definitely something to look forward to, a reward to collect along the way.

Tsukishima appears at his office door with a light knock. Behind him Kageyama spots Kuroo’s messy bed hair, Bokuto’s icy spikes, and – unexpectedly – the hooded gaze of Miya Atsumu. Kageyama can’t help but be suspicious of this odd constellation of visitors.

“Investigators and… et cetera here to see you,” Tsukishima says, sounding just as unsure about Atsumu’s presence as Kageyama is.

“Did your assistant just call me an et cetera?” Atsumu snorts, incredulous. “Don’t I qualify as an investigator, too?”

“Not in an official sense,” Bokuto says. “Just off the record.”

“But I’ve literally been investigating,” Atsumu argues. “By definition that makes me an investigator.”

“You’re a source, at best,” Kuroo cuts in, annoyed. “The difference is huge, please learn it.”

Ignoring their petty bickering, Kageyama observes each and every one of them, trying to gauge their intent by showing up like this, before he gestures for them to sit down.

“So… what’re you all doing here?”

He’s immediately put off by the way Kuroo and Bokuto exchange glances. Something in his gut tells him they’re about to share information he’ll have to brace himself for. Slowly, Kageyama finds his seat behind his desk and laces his fingers together, waiting.

“Okay,” Kuroo begins, and he sounds nervous, which only sets off more warning lights. “As you know, the guy who tried to shoot you is also in the process of recovering from his injuries. We’ve been interrogating him.”

“I’m aware. He’s given us plenty of names these past few days.”

“Basically all of them,” Bokuto agrees. “We’ve got our hands full collecting evidence. The whole network is unraveling.”

“I already know that.” Kageyama squirms, unable to shake this feeling of something not being quite right. “And?”

“Um… One of those names helped us reach a breakthrough, so to speak. It led us to many more people and gave us an understanding of why things happened the way they did.”

“That’s good… right?” He looks from one person to the other but none of them are willing to catch his eye. “Right?” he prompts again, the unsettling atmosphere making his leg jitter restlessly.

In the end Kuroo sighs and leans forward a little, his elbows resting on his knees. “There’s no easy way of telling you this but… you’ve had an infiltrator in your midst all along.”

The world completely stops for one full and extremely slow second.

A chill races down Kageyama’s spine, as if the temperature in the room has dropped several degrees. His gaze moves immediately to Atsumu, whose blank expression doesn’t reveal anything, and his previous warning echoes through his mind, more ominous than ever.

_Don’t trust anyone, no matter how close you are._

“Who is it?” Kageyama demands, his interlaced fingers now folded into a tight double-fist.

He finds the golden gaze of Bokuto, who seems only seconds away from reaching out and patting his shoulder, like an elementary school teacher offering reassuring words before tearing off the band-aid.

And then.

“It’s your bodyguard,” he says, uncharacteristically soft. “It’s Hinata.”

Something lurches in Kageyama’s gut, a heavy stone crashing at the very bottom of it. He tunes out of his surroundings, convinced he’s temporarily gone deaf. All he can hear is his own hollow breath, amplified by his racing heart, the blood rushing in his ears, and he’s drowning all over again. His memory flashes with brief, fragmented glimpses of Hinata – images of him at his breakfast table, by his kitchen counter, in his bed – and it doesn’t make sense. They can’t possibly be talking about the Hinata he knows. He ignores the little voice in the back of his head implying he might never have known Hinata at all.

“I don’t believe you.” He swallows, his mouth dry. “He’s had several opportunities to kill me. He even saved my life twice. How could he be an infiltrator?”

“The rumor of you getting a bodyguard wasn’t that big of a deal,” Atsumu admits, finally speaking up. “I lied about that. It was his name that was interesting to me.”

He crosses his arms and takes his time searching for the right words before continuing.

“When I came to see you it had nothing to do with Ushijima, I was really just checking who Hinata Shouyou was. I felt like I’d seen him before but I couldn’t recognize him, which was a bit funny. So I asked around, did some digging, and it turns out that I’m actually familiar with his father. And Shouyou-kun’s father is currently in prison for fraud, with a considerable debt. He owes money to several shady people, all the way up to those guys you’ve been after for so long. It’s not much, by any means, but you know what they’re like. They’re petty.”

“So that’s his father’s fault, then,” Kageyama argues. “It happens. Doesn’t have anything to do with Hinata.”

“Hinata has sort of unwillingly inherited that debt,” Bokuto explains. “You gotta understand that he’s an ordinary guy. He may have been placed here as an infiltrator, but he’s not an assassin, or a double agent, or even a bodyguard. Actually, he used to work as a security guard at some mall up in Sendai. It’s just that he’s stuck with these criminal ties thanks to his Dad and the people we’ve been after saw it as an opportunity. Hinata was an easy target to use in order to get to you.”

Kageyama rubs his temples, like that will keep his mind from collapsing under all this unpleasant information. How did they even miss that connection to Hinata senior in the first place? His name was _there_ , in plain sight. If they’d only looked into it they would’ve found out. Then again, fraud is a minor issue in the big picture they’ve been investigating. Neither the police nor the prosecutor’s office would consider spending time and resources on petty crimes. And they must’ve known that. Kageyama has no idea why they wouldn’t cover all their bases anyway and send in Hinata under a fake name. Maybe they just wanted to maximize his personal tragedy and at the same time tarnish Kageyama’s reputation, leaving him forever known as someone who failed to turn every stone, even though the clue was right in front of him all along.

Kageyama doesn’t know. But he knows that this is not the breakthrough he wanted. This is not how he wanted this case to be solved. He would much rather be shot than having to know all of this.

“But Tsukishima… Tsukishima vouched for him,” he points out weakly. “Someone with a spotty background like that would never get past my assistant, let alone be allowed to work for a protection service.”

“And Tsukki did a very good job,” Kuroo replies quickly. “Hinata’s agency seemed perfectly legit and Tsukki had no reason to suspect them, but it turns out that they were – well, let’s say they were intercepted long before he contacted them.”

“Intercepted?” Kageyama repeats. “How?”

Kuroo rubs the back of his head and looks away, his expression bothered, almost apologetic. “That’s… mostly my fault, probably.”

“It was _our_ fault,” Bokuto corrects him. “Not yours alone.”

“We did some digging in our own ranks,” Kuroo continues, the corner of his mouth curled into a bitter sneer. “Long story short we came up with a couple of dirty ones.”

Kageyama stares at him. “Corruption?”

“We should’ve seen it coming, honestly. We should’ve cleaned up within the team sooner. But those guys recommended me the agency that I recommended to Tsukki. They planted it in my head and I trusted them, they had long-standing credibility, so I didn’t double-check the agency myself. After that it was just a matter of passing the message on and sending in the fake bodyguard. In the end it was sloppy work on our behalf and I apologize for that.”

Kageyama takes a moment to think about what it actually means, the fact that everything and everyone seems to have been played and manipulated into the scenario they’re seeing now. All of that just to take down one person; take down _him._ If it weren’t for his life on the line he’d be flattered.

“All those letters I got… those were just supposed to make me feel unsafe, weren’t they? They basically baited us into getting a bodyguard. All they had to do was bide their time. But I don’t understand – why not just shoot me and be done with it? Just take me out from across the street, or through a window, by an anonymous sniper. Why go to these lengths in the first place?”

“Everything gets buried under the one guy who takes the blame,” Atsumu declares, almost ceremonially, like he’s reciting a poem. He smiles, a faded grin devoid of its usual sharp cleverness.

“Isn’t it obvious, Tobio-kun? One seemingly guilty person with a name and a face could close your case for good. Most people would rather point their fingers at _him_ than a vague criminal organization with widespread contacts. It’s an easy way out. And no doubt some of your higher-ups would twist things around after your death, just to wash their hands clean of this mess. If somebody kills you while Hinata’s on the job then they’ll say he was the one who instructed it. If he kills you himself then there’d be no further questions asked; no one cares if he was threatened into it. His shady family connections and the fact that he faked his profession wouldn’t give him credibility in court. It makes him the perfect –”

“– scapegoat,” Kageyama finishes quietly. He nods, everything falling into place, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “He’d never win either way. You’re right.”

“We’ve made so many arrests and collected so much hard evidence,” Kuroo says. “You’ve got plenty of witnesses now as well – Ushijima will probably come forward, the bodyguard agency – everyone involved. You can press charges, Kageyama.”

“And Hinata?”

“He’s only been informed.”

Kageyama drags his hands across his face and sighs wearily. Technically, he won this war – but it still feels like he was defeated.

“I wanna see him before you do anything else.”

**

Kageyama was looking forward to visiting Hinata at the hospital. Apart from his case that was the one thing he’d been thinking about the most. He wondered how well Hinata had recovered, what it would be like visiting someone who had not only been shot, but shot because of _him._ He wanted to know in what ways their relationship had changed, if it was for the better or for the worse. But most of all Kageyama just wanted to see him.

That was roughly one week ago. All of his questions have changed.

He takes a deep breath. He’s never been more nervous than now, standing outside Hinata’s room. Of all possible things, it’s his nerves that are tripping him up the most. He hovers his fist over the door for a moment before he knocks once, sharp and determined, and enters without waiting for an answer.

He remains lingering in the doorway, looking around, trying to get used to the sterile surroundings, the daylight bouncing off of the white walls, the chemically clean air. The hospital bed is empty, blankets thrown haphazardly to the side, and he finds himself slightly taken aback by the huge bouquet on the nightstand. It’s abundant with sunflowers, roses, and marigolds, vivid yellows and oranges brightening up the room, a golden drizzle of pollen pooled around the simple vase. Whoever sent those really went all out.

It takes him a second to remember that _he_ ’s technically the one who sent them. In other words, Tsukishima is the one who went all out. Kageyama has to admit he’s a little touched.

His eyes are drawn towards the window, where the morning sun illuminates the deepest splash of tangerine, a color that could outshine any flower bouquet. Considering it’s only been a week since he took a bullet to the chest, it’s impressive that Hinata is already on his feet. He turns around in his chair and they make eye contact like they’re strangers, unsure and apprehensive.

“Hello,” Kageyama says awkwardly, his voice loud in the room.

“Hello,” Hinata parrots back, a soft-spoken counterpart. “I, uh… I guess you’re not here to check on how I’m doing.”

“I’m afraid not.” It sounds harsh to put it like that so Kageyama pauses to rephrase. “But I’m happy you’ve recovered.”

Hinata looks away and out of the window, where a flock of seagulls somersaults through the air before descending towards the bay several stories below.

“So you heard, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Tsukishima’s not with you to take notes?”

“Figured it was best I did this by myself.”

“Yeah…” He gestures at the empty chair next to him. “At least sit down. You’re making me nervous just standing there.”

Kageyama does what he’s told and finally gets a good look at Hinata up close. He’s pale. There’s a sickly greyish shade on his face, like he’s been through one too many sleepless nights. The front of his robe falls slightly open with each careful movement and Kageyama’s gut churns with bad conscience when he sees the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. He’s torn between wanting to apologize and telling him how much that experience scared him – but that’s not why he’s here.

“So…” Hinata glances back at him, avoiding Kageyama’s eyes and instead settling on a point by his shoulder. “Where do I start?”

“Wherever you feel is natural.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking me the questions?”

“I’m not even sure what I should ask.”

Hinata nods shortly, as if that’s fair enough.

“You know, I really did everything I could not to give in.” He looks down at his hands, which are resting palms up in his lap, the grooves and lines in them crooked and dry. “I told them I’d pay them back, if my Dad’s debt was really that important to them, but I quickly realized that wasn’t what they were after. That was just leverage. They said they could get rid of that debt if I went along with their plan, and their plan involved getting rid of you. Of course I didn’t want anything to do with it, but then they started talking about my mother and my sister, how they knew where they lived… In the end I didn’t have a choice.”

Hinata shrugs one shoulder, a small reassurance for himself, like a reminder that he tried his best but came up short against people much more powerful than him.

“They said they had contacts everywhere. You wouldn’t suspect a thing. I was just supposed to pass as a credible bodyguard and get you to trust me. As long as I did that the debt would be erased and we’d all be left alone. Can’t say I believed them, though. I knew they were trying to pin something on me.”

Kageyama watches Hinata’s downturned profile. He had more or less figured out the reasons behind his story already. Stories like that always tend to go a certain way, born from the same undesirable past or the same bad crowd. The outcome isn’t that unique. He ended up stuck in a difficult situation with no way out, like so many others before him.

But it’s the shame in his words and the regret in his expression that turns Hinata into a stranger. He was in on this plan, whether he wanted to or not. He’s an accomplice now, a guilty person that Kageyama has never really known until this day, and his old feelings have become muted, drowned out by something he can only recognize in a professional setting. Their relationship isn’t personal or requited anymore. It’s just distant and formal.

“So why did you save my life?”

“I don’t know…? I was supposed to leak information about your whereabouts; that was my only job at first. I was the one who notified them about your meeting with Ushijima. But when I saw that laser pointed at you… I realized just how much I didn’t want this. If I let them kill you then that’d be blood on _my_ hands, too.”

Hinata shakes his head slowly and curls his open palms into tight fists.

“I came up with all kinds of excuses. And then I tried to divert their attention. No way they could have eyes on us all the time so I did whatever small things I could – gave them the wrong time and place, stuff like that. I knew they’d find me out eventually but… Kageyama, I’m a freaking security guard.” He looks up helplessly, eyes wide and desperate. “I make sure stray cats don’t enter the mall! I’ve never even _considered_ killing anybody!”

The eye contact is too intense for Kageyama to handle so he breaks it off. He glances out the window and up at the partially overcast sky, where the contrail from an airplane connects one wispy cloud with another. He watches as the vapor slowly dissolves, until it’s almost gone.

“What happened after that?”

“It kinda went to shit, didn’t it… They couldn’t replace me without rousing suspicions. They couldn’t make me suddenly disappear, and they couldn’t beat me up to teach me a lesson. That’d _definitely_ make you suspicious. In the end I figured I might as well bomb their entire plan, regardless of what happened to me. We were in a deadlock anyway.”

“You knew somebody was gonna try and shoot me again, didn’t you?”

Hinata worries his hands together, his veins deep blue against his ghostly skin. He looks cold and faded, like there’s something missing about him, something Kageyama can’t describe in words. He wants to wrap a blanket around him.

“That night when we… you know.” Hinata gestures into the air and blushes a deep, embarrassed crimson. “They gave me an ultimatum earlier that night. Either I shoot you myself or… they’d take matters into their own hands. They’d kill you and then they’d come for my Mom and my sister and I would just have to –” He stops abruptly, his breath hitching in his throat. “But even then I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t win either way, it was all just so messed up. I got in way over my head.”

Kageyama thinks back on the night in question, when Hinata had entered his room in the middle of the night. So he had been there to kill him – or at least he’d been ordered to do it. It had ended on a much different note but Kageyama had trusted him completely. He can’t tell how much of that trust remains now. He never saw Hinata as a killer, or even as a criminal, but he’s not sure if he’s capable of moving past this. Falling for a person only to find out they’re a hired hitman is a deception too big to ignore. If he was supposed to get close to him in order to gain his trust, then how much of their personal relationship was even real in the first place?

“You’re a victim,” Kageyama says, his tone so formal it even surprises him, as if he’s in court giving his closing statement. “You were manipulated as much as everyone else, me included. I’m not interested in pressing charges against you and I won’t call on you as a witness, because you don’t deserve being exposed to that kind of media attention. But… whatever it was that we had, I think it’s maybe best we leave it at this.”

He gets up from his chair and Hinata only watches him – wordlessly at first, before the dawning realization on his face is replaced by worry, and then desperation. He reaches out for him, wanting to physically hold him back, but abruptly stops halfway when pain stings his wound. He sucks in a sharp breath and retreats, his hand coming to a rest over his heart.

“Whatever we had I meant it,” Hinata blurts out. “Kageyama – I don’t blame you if you have reservations, or if you’re uncomfortable, but my feelings for you were real. They _are_ real.”

Kageyama hesitates at the plea in his voice but doesn’t turn back around. He doesn’t think Hinata’s intentional deception can be measured against whatever real feelings he may or may not have had. They’re two completely different things. He knows there’s a good reason why he tried to downplay the chemistry between them, and maybe Kageyama should let it go, but the deception overshadows everything.

It’s time to reach a conclusion, even though it’s not the one he was hoping for.

“You should go home,” he says gently. “Make sure your family’s okay and go back to your old life. From now on you’re relieved from your service as my bodyguard. Take care, Hinata.”

**

So much work needs to be prepared over the next couple of weeks that when it finally settles down, Kageyama’s hands are so empty it seems like he hasn’t gotten _anything_ done at all.

He swivels his chair, stares out at the sunny day outside his office window, at the clouds rolling by against a bright blue sky, before he turns his attention to the Newton’s cradle at the end of his desk. It was a present from his colleagues congratulating him on landing his first big case – a case that nobody else wanted and that is now more or less over. Finally.

He gives one of the silver spheres a nudge and watches the rapid back and forth motion, a series of satisfying clicks filling the room. Only the formal court procedures are left but it’s pretty clear what the outcome will be. The prosecution will win this one and there will be celebrations.

He glances over to the settee in the corner where Hinata always used to sit while he was working, most of the time chatting his ear off. It’s taken a while getting used to that empty seat and the silence that comes with it. In the beginning he kept catching himself turning around to check why Hinata was so quiet, only to be reminded that he wasn’t there. It would have been nice, to be able to share this victory with him as well. Hinata seems like someone who’d throw excellent parties.

“You know, just because this is almost over doesn’t mean you can slack off.”

Kageyama tilts his head and meets the gaze of his assistant, who’s at his door and on his way out, judging by his coat.

“I’m not.” He turns his attention back to the swinging spheres, which are already slowing down. “Just taking a break.”

“You’ve taken a lot of ‘breaks’ lately.” Tsukishima pauses, taps his finger on his chin in a familiarly exaggerated way, the one that says he’s just trying to figure out how to best provoke him. “Are you thinking about Hinata?”

Kageyama immediately falls for the bait, his face heating up. “What – no way.”

“Oh wait, let me rephrase that: you are thinking about Hinata. Didn’t mean for something so obvious to be a question, sorry.”

“I’m adjusting to the change,” he huffs, offended. “Give me some time.”

“If Hinata had been anybody else this never would’ve been a problem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you would’ve charged him with complicity and put him on trial just like the rest without even thinking twice about it. I hate to break it to you but you wouldn’t be having this job if you were soft and overly compassionate. So the only reason why you let Hinata off the hook is because he became someone special to you. You’ve got feelings for him, you never properly admitted to them, and now you’re doing this weird distancing thing because you think it’s the best for you both, or something like that.”

By reflex, Kageyama launches into stuttering denial. “I – I don’t think that’s – complicity, really? Come on, that’s a bit of a stretch –”

His assistant shoots him a look of disbelief so piercing that Kageyama trails off.

“He literally agreed to help _kill you_. That’s not exactly what we call a stretch in our world.”

“Well, it’s not because I have feelings per se, I just don’t think he deserved –”

“No.” Tsukishima puts his hand up and cuts him off without any real bite. “Don’t be stupid in my presence, I might catch it. Anyway – you do whatever you want. I’m just here to let you know I’m going out for lunch.”

Kageyama frowns at that. “You never go out for lunch.”

It’s Tsukishima’s turn to fall into a hesitant stutter, his cheeks taking on a very obvious shade of pink, which Kageyama finds unusually intriguing, especially for someone with a personality like his assistant. He never was much of a blushing, stammering type.

“I’m… um, I’m meeting someone, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“…Kuroo-san,” he replies reluctantly and looks everywhere but directly at Kageyama. “It’s a purely professional meeting, of course.”

“Of course,” Kageyama repeats, grinning. “Tell him I’m sorry I never ended up putting in that good word for him.”

“He showed initiative in the end so don’t worry about it.” A small smile plays on Tsukishima’s lips as he buttons up his coat. “Oh, and I emailed you something, by the way. You might be interested in the attachments. Later.”

Puzzled, Kageyama taps his computer awake and clicks on the envelope icon on his desktop. One of the most recent unread emails is from Tsukishima, like he promised, with no subject line and two attachments. When he opens it the message simply says:

_I would elaborate but I’m assuming you’re smart enough to at least put two and two together._

Kageyama mutters a curse under his breath and scowls as he downloads the documents. He’s pretty sure he’s the only one in the world with such an asshole assistant.

The first attachment is a forwarded file on Hinata, presumably for the bodyguard position. It’s complete with a recent photo, a brief (fake) resume, as well as a current address and a phone number. The second attachment is a very ordinary job posting looking for... a security officer. A security officer at the courthouse, more specifically.

Kageyama sits back in confusion, looks through the documents again, re-reads Tsukishima’s message a couple of times – and slowly the pieces click together, followed by an idea that only becomes clearer and clearer the more he thinks about it.

So maybe his assistant isn’t that bad after all.

He tries the phone number first, but after he’s sent straight to voice mail for the third time he checks the address instead. He considers his plan, stares at his quiet phone, before he prints the documents out and leaves the office.

**

Stepping out of the taxi is a little disorienting. Hinata’s address has led him to the outskirts of the city and an ordinary neighborhood that Kageyama is completely unfamiliar with. The street is narrow and crooked, with regular two-story complexes on both sides and a crisscross of cables and wires above him. The occasional old bike can be found parked against the streetlights or the low brick walls, and some of the entrances have been brightened up with potted plants and other greenery. A stray cat leaps past him and dives into hiding under an old Toyota parked outside one of the apartment buildings. It’s nice and quiet but far away from city central. It never occurred to Kageyama that Hinata had to commute long distance almost every morning.

He checks the address again to be sure he’s found the right place. The boxy building in front of him is light grey and inconspicuous, constructed in flaky old panel with three apartments on each level. It looks like a typical temporary rental, one where you tend to move out after a year is up. It’s not the kind of place you live in for too long at a time.

According to his notes Hinata lives on the second floor, so Kageyama makes his way up the rickety staircase, carefully reading the nameplates as he goes. There’s only one door where the slot is empty, and the neighboring names are not Hinata. By elimination this empty door should be his, unless he lives under a different name – or unless he’s already moved out.

With a lump in his chest Kageyama rings the doorbell once. He counts six really long seconds, listening to any muffled sounds. When there’s no response he presses the button again. He’s on his third attempt, his persistence slowly disappearing along with his hopes, when there’s finally the clatter of the door unlocking. Soft, bright curls float into view and a brown eye peers at him through the small crack; blurry with confusion at first, then wide with surprise. Hinata pushes the door completely open, allowing the daylight in, and stares up at him.

“Kageyama…?”

“…Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood?” Kageyama replies lamely.

Hinata arches an eyebrow suspiciously, pokes his head out the door to check both ways of the otherwise quiet street, and then retreats back into the doorway.

“No, you weren’t.”

“Can I come in, then?”

He hesitates, biting doubtfully on his lip, before he nods and gestures for him to enter. Kageyama steps into the dim entryway of the small apartment, which is nothing more than a square box that seems almost claustrophobic for someone as tall as him. He can see the rest of the apartment just fine from there. It’s a modest three-room space, with a kitchen area and something that could pass as a living room, at best. There’s also a small bathroom and a sliding door to create a divide for sleeping. The area is sparsely furnished and not decorated at all, containing only a few mismatched chairs and some pots and pans, as if nobody is actually living there.

Hinata changes his slippers and steps up from the genkan, gaining a little height. “It’s kinda messy in here right now…” He snatches a couple of discarded socks up from the floor and throws them onto a nearby stool. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you cleaning or…” Kageyama spots the cardboard boxes and the big suitcase behind him and pauses thoughtfully. “Or… moving out?”

“The latter.”

“Where…?”

“Home, like you suggested. I’ve just been arguing with my landlord about rent, that’s why I’m still here.” Hinata shrugs and looks down at his feet. “Since you didn’t press any charges against me I still got a clean record, so… figured I’d try to get my old job back or something.”

Kageyama offers a non-committal hum but doesn’t follow up with anything sensible, and silence falls between them. Hinata seems about ready to burst with a thousand anxious questions and he moves restlessly on the spot, constantly shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“So… why are you here, exactly?” he asks in the end, his hands nervously clasped together. “Did you forget about something or – or change your mind…?”

“No, but you’re not in trouble,” Kageyama reassures him. “Don’t worry about that.”

He reaches into his inner pocket, finds the printout of the job posting, and hands it to Hinata, who kind of just frowns at it, confused.

“What’s this?”

“A job posting.”

“I can see that but… why are you giving me this?”

“It’s just a suggestion.”

“A suggestion? For what?”

“For a job, dumbass.”

“Well, yeah. But why?”

Annoyed, Kageyama stops to collect his thoughts before he wanders into whatever dead end this conversation is heading for. The resolve he had when he left the office is starting to waver, revealing all the holes in his plan, which at this point is starting to look more like an impulsive act that’s just exposing all of his unspoken feelings in a really unflattering way rather than an actual plan. What was he even thinking?

“This could be a good way to get back into the swing of things,” he tries, hopeful. “You’re qualified for it, right?”

“Sure, but I…” Hinata stares at the paper, turns it around to check if anything’s written on the back, rereads the description a couple of times. “I don’t want a job where somebody has been pulling strings for me.”

“I’d never bother giving you the actual posting, then. Obviously you’ll apply the same way as everyone else. You can put me up as a reference but that’s it.”

Hinata falls silent. He thinks it over for a long time and Kageyama feels like he’s waiting for the court to pronounce the final sentence, except this is about ten thousand times more nerve-racking. In the end he meets him with a strangely blank expression, his head tilted.

“You still didn’t answer my question earlier.”

“Uh…” Kageyama’s gaze flickers unsurely. “I did.”

“You didn’t,” Hinata insists. “I can see that it’s a job posting and I understand that it’s a good suggestion. But _why_ would you come all the way out here in person just to offer me this?”

Turns out Kageyama really didn’t think this through. He had interpreted Tsukishima’s email as an opportunity to make Hinata stay and it had seemed like a brilliant idea to do it this way – but now that he’s here he’s not sure how he’s supposed to explain it.

At the hospital he had made it clear that they were over. Hinata’s services, no matter how fake, were no longer needed. He was advised to get out of Tokyo and go back home. The fact that Hinata had actually protected him countless times and got himself tangled up in a dangerous mess, even put his life on the line for him – all of that didn’t matter anymore. Posing as a bodyguard and pretending everything was alright must also have been a terrifying burden for him, but that wasn’t taken into consideration. They were basically over in every sense of the word and Kageyama left him when Hinata needed him the most.

Making him stay means taking all of that back and now Kageyama is suddenly the one who’s scared of being rejected. He’s a coward, in other words.

“Sometimes being a prosecutor means handing out second chances,” he says hesitantly. “Consider this a second chance.”

What is he even saying? It sounds like the start of the worst closing statement so far in his career, so pretentious and patronizing. God, he’s such an idiot.

“Whose second chances?” Hinata asks softly. “Mine or yours?”

“Look, there’s not much else to say,” Kageyama finishes, even though he knows there is; there is a lot more to say. This is just another question left unanswered. “Think about it, at least.”

**

The weeks turn into months and Kageyama waits for a reference call that never comes. He knows he doesn’t have the right to pry into this but he still looks around for that small glimpse of bright tangerine whenever he shows up at the courthouse. Every time his heart is beating nervously, as though _he_ is the one who’s applying for a new job, and every time he leaves a little more disappointed.

In the meantime they hold their proceedings, the prosecution wins, they take on new cases. Life moves on.

“Maybe it’s best you just seek him out,” Tsukishima suggests, as they’re making their way back to the office.

Kageyama knows perfectly well what his assistant is talking about – he really won’t stop pestering him about it – but he still gives a puzzled grunt, prompting him to elaborate.

“It’s not like Hinata can sense you telepathically,” Tsukishima muses, his expression annoyingly serious, like he’s talking to a preschooler. “Neither of you have the brain power for that to work.”

Kageyama shoulders his way past him, ignoring his indignant protest, and enters the elevator first. His assistant is of the opinion that he provided Kageyama with everything he needed but that he still somehow blew it – and of course he finds this endlessly amusing; Kageyama hasn’t heard the end of it since. He agrees that he blew it but he’s not about to admit that out loud. And besides, it’s not that simple.

“I sought him out once already,” he points out. “I feel like I’ve meddled enough.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s my problem either way. But let me know if you’ll continue looking over your shoulder every time we’re at the courthouse. Hinata obviously isn’t there and it just makes you seem paranoid.”

“I’m not paranoid! I’m just – trying to get used to the situation.”

“You’ve been saying that for months.”

“I’m aware.”

“At this rate I’ll be taking over your job as prosecutor,” Tsukishima smirks. “And you’ll be my assistant. Or, wait – I’m not sure I’d want that to be honest.”

“You’re awfully chatty right now, are you feeling okay?” Kageyama grumbles before stomping out of the elevator.

“Oh – Kageyama-san –” The secretary at the front desk pauses her phone conversation when she sees him and waves to catch his attention. “There’s a visitor for you. I said you were in court but he insisted on waiting so I showed him to your office. Let’s see –” she takes a moment to check her notes, “ah, yes – one Hinata Shouyou.”

What she says is so unexpected that Kageyama isn’t sure he heard her correctly. The name lingers in his ears, loud and clear, but it refuses to stick properly.

“Who?” he asks stupidly.

“Um – Hinata Shouyou?”

Kageyama is only wearing a light spring coat over his business suit but right now it feels like a parka. He’s sweating all the way to his bones, his face heating up feverishly, and the secretary gives him a strange look. His gaze snaps to Tsukishima, his mind immediately conjuring up a conspiracy involving his assistant planning something outrageous behind his back, but he kind of just shrugs in response.

“I’m impressed,” he admits, unconcerned. “Maybe you guys do have enough brainpower to communicate telepathically after all.”

So this is apparently happening right now. Instead of the reference call he expected, Kageyama got Hinata in person, waiting for him. It’s almost too much to handle so suddenly. Without wasting another word he leaves the reception area and hurries down the corridor. When he reaches his office and the reflection on the glass shifts, he finally spots him. Those bright orange curls are unmistakable.

Hinata rises from his chair when Kageyama enters. His hair is a little shorter than the last time they met, his outfit is business casual, and there’s an ID-tag tucked away in his shirt pocket. He looks healthy and handsome and he greets him with an unsure smile.

“The girl at the front desk said I could wait here. Hope it’s okay.”

“Um, yeah… Yeah, of course!”

Kageyama shakes himself out of his numb daze and nods vigorously, gesturing for him to sit back down. He tosses his coat in direction of his settee, somehow misses it completely, pretends that it didn’t happen, and joins Hinata at his desk.

“So… how are you?”

“Great, thanks! I’ve fully recovered and I’m – I’m good.”

“Good,” Kageyama repeats. “I’m glad to hear it.”

There’s an awkward pause of searching for words and avoiding eye contact, and the conversation dies down. When they decide to speak up again they both do so at the same time and the conversation once again grinds to a halt.

“Sorry,” Kageyama apologizes. “You go first.”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood,” Hinata says, the shadow of a small teasing smile at the corner of his mouth.

Kageyama grins at the way he played his own dumb excuse back at him. He deserved that one.

“So you decided to stop by, huh?”

“Yep, something like that.” Hinata hesitates and shifts in his chair, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Actually – I wanted to let you know that… I didn’t apply for that security officer job.”

“Oh…” Kageyama can literally feel how the smile he’s already struggling with stiffens uncomfortably across his features. “Okay. I – I see.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your help or anything!” Hinata says quickly. “It just didn’t seem right for me, personally, to be a security guard at the courthouse and all. I felt kinda weird about it.”

Kageyama understands that. He understands that very well. He’s not really all that surprised by his decision and deep down he also knew his plan (or non-plan) was mostly based on wishful thinking, something that could buy him time while he tried to gather his courage. But that doesn’t mean he’s not disappointed. Hinata not applying for the job means he most likely won’t be staying in Tokyo for much longer. It means he’s aiming for a new start somewhere else and that he’s probably just here to say goodbye. And Kageyama is _so_ disappointed. Mostly in himself, for being a coward.

“Did you… get another offer?” he asks, trying to sound casual and lighthearted about it even though his mouth is dry.

“I contacted my old workplace in Sendai,” Hinata explains. “I couldn’t get my job back, after all I’ve been away for a while, but they offered me a different one in a related branch, a supervisor position. Technically I’ll have to complete and pass a training course first but I’m pretty much guaranteed work.” He beams, looking genuinely happy. “Besides, it’s a step up in the ranks!”

“Right.” Kageyama attempts another smile and prays it doesn’t look too forced. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

There’s another silent pause. Hinata doesn’t squirm in his chair like he did earlier but he clearly has something more he’d like to get off his chest. He’s just trying to figure out how to say it, and whatever it is seems more and more important with each second that passes. Kageyama wonders if he’s looking for closure, if that’s why this is important to him. After he finds closure he will leave. He’s sure of it.

“There’s one more thing,” he finally says. “You never gave me a proper answer. Why did you really suggest I apply for that job?”

So Kageyama’s awful closing statement from last time finally comes back to haunt him. It was a pathetic attempt and he can’t help but cringe at it. This is his one chance to turn it into one that’s convincing, at the very least.

“I… just wanted you to have a reason to stay.” He takes a deep breath before continuing; before the plunge. “I figured you might consider it if you had something permanent to keep you here, like a job. I honestly wanted that permanent thing to be me but I was scared you’d reject me, because I’d already rejected you. Those second chances were supposed to be mine and I’m sorry I wasn’t more straightforward about it.”

Hinata observes him for a second, processing his answer. Then he nods to himself and grins, apparently satisfied.

“That sounds much better. I’ll accept that.”

He doesn’t elaborate on it and Kageyama isn’t sure if Hinata is seeking closure as much as he showed up just to turn the knife around in the wound. He doesn’t think so, he’s not that kind of person, but if he really was then he can’t even complain. He deserves it for sure.

“Too bad I couldn’t actually help you out with anything before you leave,” he says stiffly and hopes he doesn’t come off as bitter. “I have contacts up in Sendai though, so if you need help finding a new place to live or anything I could let them know. If you want to, that is. I understand if you wanna get things sorted out on your own but –”

“Wait, hold on –” Hinata stops his rambling looking completely bewildered, like he just wandered into a stranger’s living room without meaning to. “Sendai? What’re you talking about?”

Everything stops abruptly in its tracks and Kageyama stares back at him, just as bewildered. “That’s… where your new job is – right?”

“But it’s not?”

“It’s not?”

“No? It’s here, in Tokyo.”

“It’s in – wait. It’s here?”

“Yeah!” Hinata huffs out an astonished laugh. “The training and the job and everything – it’s all here. Why? Did you think I was leaving?”

Kageyama releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, several tons suddenly lifted off his shoulders. He wouldn’t be surprised if he any moment now just spontaneously floated into space. He closes his eyes and flops forward, his forehead meeting his desk with a dull thump.

“Yes, I did, you dumbass,” he complains into the polished wood, although there’s no real bite behind his words. “Do you ever think things through before you speak, or?”

“But I literally came here to tell you!” Hinata exclaims, genuinely annoyed. “I just wanted to know where we stand before I rush into something, isn’t that a legit reason after everything that’s happened?”

“Would’ve been great if you told me sooner. Or in a different order.”

“Not my fault you’re stupid.”

Hinata sighs, frustrated, and falls into a sulking pause. Kageyama hasn’t moved from where his aching forehead meets his desk but he can very clearly imagine him crossing his arms and pouting; his entire aura radiates that exact posture. They’ve turned into bickering five-year-olds and it’s more embarrassing than it is annoying, but when Hinata finally speaks up again his words are softer.

“Will you please look at me?”

Kageyama does as he’s told and reluctantly tilts his head up – but he can’t even get a coherent word in before Hinata leans across his desk, cups his face in his palms, and presses his mouth against his. He gives a startled sound in the back of his throat, still awkwardly slouched over his paperwork, but Hinata only keeps him close, his hands gentle and his lips warm, and it feels like the first time – the first time they connect, the first time they level with each other, the first time they break apart. It’s just different this time. This time they’re both staying.

“I think getting a second chance is a good final verdict,” Hinata whispers.

Kageyama realizes stupidly late that they really just kissed right there in his office, for everyone to see, and that he doesn’t care one bit.

“The best,” he agrees.

Hinata smiles, bright as the sun, and if Tsukishima is shouting at them from across the corridor, telling them to get a room without glass walls, then neither of them are too bothered to listen.

**

After he’s locked himself in, Kageyama remains in the entryway of his apartment for a moment. He leans his back against the door, taking in all sounds and scents. The living room window is visible from where he’s standing, displaying sparkling city lights through open blinds. The faint tunes of a random playlist linger in the background, accompanied by soft clinks and clatters from the kitchen. All the lights are on, the place is comfortably warm, something delicious is cooking – and joining him in that small, enclosed space are somebody else’s pairs of shoes, somebody else’s jackets and coats, somebody else’s presence.

They’re closing in on their two-year anniversary but sometimes Kageyama is still a little surprised when he comes home, especially when he’s back late from work. This really is his normal life now, the one he didn’t know he was missing. He’s finally living it. It’s always good to be reminded of the fact that _he’s_ the permanent reason.

“I’m home,” he calls out as he hangs his outerwear away and takes his shoes off.

“Welcome home!”

Hinata turns away from the stove when Kageyama enters the apartment. He’s wearing the stupid apron he bought during their trip to Okinawa last summer, the one with the retro print of a grinning gargoyle on the front. Kageyama had wanted to buy only the local food souvenirs, while Hinata insisted on both the food souvenirs _and_ the ugly knick-knacks. Since then they’ve made several weekend trips to different places and Hinata is always like that – and Kageyama loves him for it, like he loves him for so many other reasons.

“You’re late today, Tobio.” Hinata goes back to stirring the food. “How’s everything going with –”

He’s cut off when Kageyama slips his arms around his waist and hugs him tightly. He presses close against his back and buries his face in the crook of his neck, taking a moment to let his safe warmth calm him.

“Long day, huh?”

“Yep,” Kageyama sighs. “Thank god it’s the weekend.”

“Here –” Hinata picks up a wooden spoon from the counter, dips it into the boiling pot, and blows on it to cool it down. “Taste this,” he offers and hovers the spoon in front of Kageyama’s face. “I’m trying a new curry recipe.”

“Tastes good,” Kageyama confirms and licks his lips. “You make the best curry.”

Satisfied, Hinata puts the dripping spoon away and turns around in Kageyama’s embrace, looping his arms around his neck before kissing him deeply.

“And how was that?” he asks when they break apart.

“Even better,” Kageyama murmurs happily. “You’re the best kisser, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hinata narrows his eyes at him, pretending to be jealous. “Compared to who?”

“It’s an assumption that I’m not interested in testing out on anyone else.”

“If you _were_ interested in testing it out I’d sue you.”

“If you wanted to sue me you’d better get a good lawyer.”

“I already got the best.”

“That’s what I mean, dumbass.”

Kageyama is about to put an end to their harmless discussion by making out for a bit longer when Hinata suddenly gasps and turns back to the stove.

“The curry!” He quickly switches the gas off and glares over his shoulder. “It almost got burnt because of you, you jerk!”

“How is it _my_ fault?”

“You’re clingy and distracting.” Hinata smacks Kageyama’s arm with a dishtowel and nudges him out of the way. “Make yourself useful, set the table or something.”

Kageyama grumbles out an insult but goes about his task with a small, wobbly grin that he’s unable to hide. Constantly bickering and bantering over the smallest things has become a common theme for them. Neither of them minds as it seems to line up well with their personalities, even though there have been bigger explosions in the past; loud and serious arguments that last for a while and in the end require apologies and hugs and kisses.

But if a relationship can survive a betrayal, a literal assassination plan, and a lethal shot to the heart, then Kageyama supposes it can live through most anything else. Burnt curry be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic quite a while back, it used to be just a dumb tweet I posted randomly, and it’s evolved A LOT since then. I actually rewrote most of it after I hit the first 20k because I wasn’t satisfied, like Hinata didn’t do any of that stuff in the first draft lol… I’m so happy I did it though because I think it turned out pretty good this way! I hope you enjoyed reading it!


End file.
